No More Hope
by gaptasticventure
Summary: She survived the Games. He survived the aftermath. Thing's are bad, and he'd always find away to slip away until now.
1. The Speech

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Our President of Panem never falls short on things to do. From the looks, it appears that he has again used his 'magic' too turn something already so terrible, or rather unhuman, into something… worse. It was pretty darn apparent that something was wrong the minute we were notified of the special announcement actually.

"This year, in place of the usual 'Games', will be something different." He starts, voice thundering from the microphone atop his tall wooden stand. "An event that will be held every twenty-five years a matter a fact."

I stroke my younger sister's-Sophia- silky blondish hair as she began to quiver from the questionable approach in the president's voice.

"In memory of those poor souls lost in the unnecessary mess of the Dark Days, and a special reminder of the powerfulness of the Capital, something I'd like to call a _Quarter Quell_ will be put into place."

I again glanced down at my Sophia, whose wide eyes were fixed firmly at the television screen. I can feel the quick beats of her heart as she sits in my lap.

"And also, to show that teamwork, strength in numbers, and group collaboration will never rise above the superior that is you're Capital. To kick of the beginning of these Quells, each District citizen will be required to pick a boy and girl that you would like to participate as a tribute this year."

My mouth falls agape just as my sister jolts up, knocking her arm into my chest. "Oh no Landon, Sophia screamed, no likes me!" She was unfortunately telling the truth.

Almost every day, she would be waiting at home for me to return from work for she could spill out the lists work of bullying she had endured. Sophia was soft, and it wasn't something she could hide as everyone knew.

"It's going to be alright, I mutter into her small ear, it will be alright."

Pondering over how this whole thing would work seemed to infuriate me even greater. The Capital had already forced our children into the death sentence known as _The Hunger Games_; but they now expected us to do it ourselves?

I'm twenty-two, and Sophia's thirteen, meaning she still is in store for more years of reaping's to come, while I know longer qualify. That is, if she survives this one…

But I can't afford to think like that. Not while my sister is looking up to me for advice. Not while she has no one left but me, Landon Spite.

"Get to bed Sophia, I'll be there in a little bit."

"You promise?"

"You know it."

I sat back down on our small straw-filled couch, and relaxed as best as I could. The Games are far from different this year, and that should already be enough for me to think about for tonight, let along Sophia.

I watched the replays they showed for about thirty more minuets, then headed for the small bed that Sophia and I both shared.

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	2. The Fields

District 11 is a very large place, just large enough for it to contain a well-balanced population of seven-thousand people. Out of that estimate is about me and three-thousand other farmers. The rest are either too young to work, or have other jobs.

Being a farmer, citizens grow fond of you since you're the one that supply's them with food, and I'm proud to say that a lot of the thankful faces that collect the small amounts are familiar to me. Even if I'm not to them.

On my way to the fields, I pass the remains and remnants of the buildings that were destroyed in the war. The area has been mostly blocked off now, though the memories are still very vivid. It's just this location, some of us still hear the screams as if they were being played on a broken record player. It's usually just the ones that lost people though, but there's still a looming feeling that seems to haunt the blackened piles of destroyed material. It gives Sophia the creeps.

The town center clock reads nine-forty-five, meaning that in ten minutes, Sophia and the other district kids will be headed to school. I won't be seeing her until noon.

My walk switches to a jog as I'm eager to get to the fields. We have it easy here almost, because I only have to work three hours before a break. They don't tell us what it's like in the other districts, but I hear the jobs are harder up in 12.

The wooden door swings open with a_ whoosh_, and I walk right in onto the dry grass. I'm greeted with a "hello" by my friend Kale, who's currently picking weeds, and I notice the sweat dripping down his face.

"Why don't you go pick out the dead crops Kale, I'll finish up with the weeds. The officials just don't seem to understand that plants die during the winter." I say.

"Gladly." He walks over to the water pump, feels a bucket, and pours it over his head. Drenched in water, he stands up and continues to the crops. "That could be my bath," he says as I laugh. I try not to comment on the fact that he just wasted water. Only he would do things that would have anyone else looking over the shoulders in fear of a peacekeeper having seen, only him.

I grab some tools from the barn behind us, and got to work. The harmonic melodies of the mockingjays are nice to listen too, almost like the lullabies that I sung to Sophia. It's peaceful for a while, and we make small talk while getting our jobs done. For a while.

"Are you serious?" someone calls. I find no need to check it out, but Kale does anyway. I focus on him through the sunlight, and see the two men that are in the middle of an argument. One shoved down by the other, and gets flicked off as a result.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let's not get touchy." Kale stands in between them. "What's the problem here?" A young man named Matthew gets in his face.

"Problem yourself Kale, we can handle our own problems." He says. Kale rolls his eyes because Matthew's always giving people trouble.

"What did he do?" Kale asks annoyed. The man that had been yelling keeps his eyes trained at Matthew.

"He urinated in my crops, that's what!" Kale and I both make a face at about the same time. I really wish that I hadn't heard that, and personally, I think it's very wrong. The man's crops were all but ruined now, and he can't even think about giving it to the Capital. You give them garbage like that, and they'll give it right back to ya. By having you killed of course.

"You guys think it's funny that I'll have to replant, huh?" the man says. "Tell you what, I'll be voting on your sister, he said pointing at Kale, and your brother," he said to Matthew. "Good day."

Poor Kale. While that's still two pieces of paper without my sisters name on it, that's terrible for my two partners. It's also a horrible way to be threatened. I suddenly had a strong urge to see Sophia, with the Quarter Quell having been announced and all, I didn't want her worrying.

_A watch, I need a watch._

Kale has one on his wrist, but doesn't seem to want to be bothered at the moment. I can see the big clock in distance, but it's facing backwards to me. I had forgotten the one that I usually wear to work, and I hated not knowing things.

"Does anyone have a watch?" I yelled.

I get a response, a man named Harold who raises up his hand, but just the thought makes me shudder. He's older than all of us, and we respect him and all, but he's creepy like the strangers parents warn their children about.

He does have a watch though, I can see it on his hand. He's also is missing two fingers, and when he calls me over, I come just to be polite.

When I arrived at his spot, he unstrapped it and handed it to me. Of course it told time in roman numerals, the only thing that I don't know how to read.

"Excuse me sir, would you mind telling me it's time." I ask. He leans in and looks, before whispering ten- fifty four. I nod and thank him, before handing it back and beginning to take off. He stops me.

"My wife gave this to me, and I had no idea what the heck they meant either, so she taught me this exact same way." He says.

He pointed at what he said to be a 7.

"Only one smaller digit can be on the left side of the larger digit. For example, the number 7 would be written as "VII"."

_What? _I thought.

He checked to see if I was paying attention. I was, but his words were going in one ear and out the other. We went over every exhausting number on the watch, and I stood through the entire thing and nodded my head off as if I understood what he was saying. I just couldn't say no to the old man.

He again finally told me the time, eleven-twenty four and went back to work like nothing happened.

What a waste of time, I thought. I asked a simple question, and the old man turned it into a 30 minute speech. I've just wasted thirty ridiculous minutes, when I should have been helping Kale with the crops. I hope none of the peacekeepers find out.

"Don't worry. No one will know," Harold says with a smile. "And if you ever need anything again Landon, just ask."

Creepy.

After working for about thirty more minutes, I pack my things to head home. I'm allowed to take four vegetables with me by the end of the week and I make my choice.

When I leave, I notice the peacekeeper who comes here every Friday to check our bags is standing outside the gate. I handed him mine and waited. I get my bag back completely rearranged and sigh.

I wanted to say something but of course didn't. A man named Jasper once spoke up, and he was sentenced to twenty lashes. His family didn't have the proper tools and antibiotics to help him, and everyone else was too afraid to offer any aid. He was dead by morning.

On my way home, I pass the voting table. It's neatly arranged on a wooden table, with two glass bowls and a cup full of ink pins.

"Have you voted yet son?" I turn to see a peacekeeper steadily walking towards me. In panic, I nodded, and hurried off. Not only had I just lied, but I had just lied to a peacekeeper. Sophia would not be hearing of any of this.

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	3. The Reaping's

When the freezing cold water from our pump hit my face, I winced. Pumping it sure took a lot of effort, but most of the time it was worth it. Not paying attention, I cut my finger on the rusty edge of one of the bolts. It was a small cut and I could barely feel its presence.

Today is Reaping day, and I have to worry regardless. I've lied to a peacekeeper about the reaping, and Sophia would be participating in a type of drawing with the other kids this year. If that didn't get her (like it probably won't) the punishment for my actions definitely would.

I walked back inside to grab a bucket, and wiped off my forehead with my arm. If there's anything I've learned in my 22 years of life, it's that a lie will only stay believed for a short while. My mother could tell you the same thing. If she was still here of course.

The faint shine of the light shined through the window. When it the reviled the small holes in the raggedy old curtains, it reminded me that I had forgotten to sew them up last time.

I walked past the bucket to the place where we kept the towels. The small cabinet opened with a loud creek, and I wondered if I had just woken up Sophia. I grabbed a small one and headed my way back to the door.

For a second I wondered if that was her I heard call my name but when I went to check on her, she was sound asleep. I shrugged it off and went back out.

I filled the bucket with the water, and mixed it with the bar of soap I had also just grabbed. I removed my boots and socks, and dipped my towel into the sudsy water. I washed off my cut and then my feet, and sighed with relief. The entire experience always feels great.

I noticed one of the peacekeepers walking by the street in front of the house. We both exchanged stares and knowing looks because I knew him personally. He must have been headed to the Justice building to help prepare for the Reaping's.

"Is that him?" I turned my head around to see Sophia standing at the door, I hadn't even heard her open it.

She walked over beside the pump and sat down.

"Is that the one that killed…?" I stopped her before she could continue. I got a heavy feeling in my throat and nodded. I watched the man walk out of eyesight.

"Why aren't you still in bed?" I asked.

The look of fear in her eyes already answered my question, not to mention her slight shaking. I rubbed my hand across her head.

"You don't need to worry, you won't get picked I promise," I said for the one hundredth time. And every time, just hearing me repeat it was enough to calm her down. I had experienced this same feeling for 7 years, and I was glad I could help her get through it as a brother. Even if I wasn't being a very good one.

I still hadn't told her about the incident from yesterday and I didn't plan on ever doing so. She leaned against my shoulder as I put back on my boots.

"Come on, let's go get ready," I said.

She smiled and walked back to the house with me. I planted a kiss on her head and turned around back to the pump. She looked at me and I gave her the one minute sign. I had forgot to get the drinking water.

When I arrived back inside, Sophia was wearing a blue dress.

"I laid out something for you two Landon, she said."

I looked over at the chair. My plain white shirt was folded neatly on the seat, along with my belt and brown pants.

"Thank you," I said, and I walked into our small bathroom to change.

We each took a sip of water before leaving, and did a quick clean around the house.

She hugged me and walked over, to go sign in. I hurt me to watch them prick her finger, and I wasn't sure if I'd be prepared for what I knew would happen next.

The mayor steps up on the stage to give his speech, and I watch Sophia walk into the small crowd of 13 year old girls. I listen from afar, and just couldn't wait for the whole thing to be over.

Vanessa Reed took the stage, and she's already buzzing with excitement. She welcomed us with a small speech, and then got to the results.

"Based on the results of the votes," While I should have been worried for myself and Sophia, I was instead mad at District 11. Most to everyone voted without hesitation, as if they believed the person's chances of getting drawn and reaped didn't become higher once their vote was counted.

This was ridiculous and it made me even madder.

"At twenty seven votes, Venice Greens!"

The 17 year old girl section made a path for Venice to walk through. She was dressed better than most of the other girls and looked proud as if she had expected this to happen. She walked up on stage and stood next to Vanessa.

Of course I had forgot, there would always be people that wanted to be picked. She had probably told people to vote on her.

"And now for the boys, she read from her cards carefully, at forty one votes Josh Satchel!" Just as I had predicted, Sophia wasn't picked. There was no reason for anyone to ever think that she would be. But I didn't have time to be happy.

Why hadn't I just voted?

I looked for my sister's face. There she was looking right back at me, smiling. I didn't smile back.

And then cutting off Vanessa, the peacekeepers standing on both sides of her drew their weapons. The first one to make it into the crowd, looked around until stopping at a boy in the back.

The armed man grabbed the boys arm and dragged him out. The child's squirms were useless, and he was quickly removed from the area. Then came the other peacekeeper, followed by two more and they continued to do the same to about nine others.

There was screaming and crying, and some of the parents and guardians stepped in to try and help what was already was worse enough. People were being shot at, and knocked to their feet. What did the peacekeepers expect would happen?

The groups no longer were groups, and looked more like scattered mice. The entire scene was crazy and I wasn't sure if I should try grabbing Sophia and running.

I looked up to see about five more peacekeeper's arrive.

A couple of people ran past me, and I turned around to the sound of a thud. A lady face planted onto the ground, and I realized a hole in the back of her head.

Shivers ran through me when I saw the peacekeeper who had just fired the shot up ahead. I ducked down.

Of course right at that moment, Sophia ran towards me. She jumped at the sight of the women's body.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Get down!" I shouted. She stood there and demanded an answer. The peacekeepers gun was raised, and I stood up to force her down.

She refused, and started to get teary eyed.

"Sophia, watch out there's…

I remember hearing the shot fire, and then hitting the ground. Everything started getting blurry and I was getting a really bad headache.

Sophia kneeled beside me, and I heard her call my name over and over. The sharp pain in my chest was making me unable to respond.

It was becoming harder and harder to breath, and I knew the bullet must have hit something important.

The last thing I remember is Sophia's face changing from a scared and concerned look, to an angered look as I closed my eyes. I didn't even want to believe what I heard come out of her mouth as she walked off. I'll just say it ended with the word "volunteer."

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	4. The Rescuers

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Sophia is speaking to me. Something about finding a hiding place. We walk some and stop. Everything looks fuzzy and blurry and I don't even see him coming. His hand wraps around Sophia's mouth, and a knife pierces her neck. She drops to the ground not even letting out a sound.

"No!" I yelled, and before I know it he's headed in my direction.

My eyes shoot open and I'm in some sort of room. There's a brown haired girl standing in front of me, and she looks vaguely familiar. I better not try anything with her, because she wielding a machete.

She looks surprised that I had just woken up, and goes to get me something to eat. After all, I'm starving.

I look down at my chest, and there's a bandage wrapped around it. I try to sit up, but I don't have the strength. The windows are closed and the curtains are down.

There's a small lamp on my left, and I turn it on. My soup had arrived.

The girl props me up on the bed I've been asleep on for who knows how long, and hands me a tray. The scent smells delicious and I can tell it's made of mushrooms. I drink some of the water that she brought.

The bowl on the tray was super-hot, and I almost dropped it. Soup spills on the bed and the floor, causing the girl to let a few curses slip.

"Do I need to baby feed you, or can you handle it yourself?"

This girl had attitude. Odd, because she had just been so nice.

I shook my head, and slowly ate the savory soup. I remembered my dream and wondered where Sophia, was.

I finished the mushroom soup, and sat it down beside the bed. My mouth opened to say something, but I was interrupted again.

"My mom will answer any questions you may have, and she should be back shortly. Just wait," she said.

She watched me cautiously as I climbed out of the bed. Curious about what had happened since I'd been sleep I started to open the window.

The girl held the machete in my face, and told me to walk away from the window. Unarmed I willingly did so. I sat back down and wondered why I was there. None of this was making sense.

The door opened, and who I guessed was the mom stepped in. Her eyes looked as if they would pop, and she ran over to side of the bed.

"Oh thank heavens," she said.

She sat down all of her things and felt my temperature. She told the girl with the machete to go get some wet towels as my temperature was apparently high.

"My names Sahara, how are you feeling," she asked me, checking my head again.

But my question felt more important.

"Where am I?"

"Safe," she said.

That wasn't a good enough answer, but I didn't say anything about it. This was just making me even more confused then I already was, and I had been pretty confused before.

"Remember the girl that was reaped, Venice Greene?" asked the girl that had just gotten back with the towel.

"Yes," I said.

"That was me," Venice said, smirking at my look of suprisement.

Sahara placed the towel over my head, and it felt nice and cold. But I got only madder when it felt like they weren't telling me something.

"But then, where's my sister?!" I wanted know.

Venice and her mother exchanged looks. Then they both looked back at me. And then finally, all the answers I had been dying to know came at me all at once.

"Ever since we found you at the reaping, you've been unconscious for almost a week. I was able to remove the broken fragments from the bullet that hit you. And to be honest, I wasn't really sure if you were going to make it," Sahara said.

"If someone were to turn you in, they'd get food for a year, said Venice, and we could really use that," she was glared at by her mother, and sighed as she walked out the room.

"Do you remember anything, from when…?"

"Yes, I said, my sister was there, where is she?"

I was trying my best to avoid the obvious thought that she had indeed volunteered, but it was pointless. No part of me had forgotten the terrible scene that had unfolded at the reaping, let along the feeling of being shot.

Thinking about my dream was scaring me more than before now. Did that lady really just say a week?

The woman looked concerned.

"You don't remember, do you?"

She walked over to the television stationed to the right of the bed. She switched the knob, and the lights flickered on to a blank screen.

"It should be starting in a few minutes," Sahara said.

I couldn't stand the way she was explaining things to me. As far as I knew, I had just woken up from a coma and for whatever reason was being taken care of by these people. I decided to question why I was there.

"Well, you can't exactly just walk out, she said.

"What," once again, she wasn't making any sense.

"Just in case you didn't catch what my daughter said, I want you to know that they've set up a bounty. A bounty for your head. And if you were to just walk out of here like nothing had happened, you'd wind up getting us all killed."

That was almost too hard to take in. I had been shot and unconscious for a week, and now after being nursed back to health, I was basically being held against my will. All just because I had disobeyed orders from the capital.

"But what was the point of taking me in, now you've pulled yourself into the situation I was already in by not voting."

Sahara didn't even have to think about her answer, "When your sister comes home from the games, there's going to have to be someone for her to comeback too."

"She's not coming back, I almost instinctively said, she's just not strong enough to do the things she would need to do to survive for. I don't even think I'd be either."

Sahara shook her head in disappointment.

"Do you want her to come back?"

I nodded. What type of question was that, what type of game was it? Was she trying to see how much it took before I started to cry?

"Then you need to believe she'll make it back, you'll have to have hope."

Oh hope, the thing I felt that I was losing. The thing that felt like I was running out of. My sister had volunteered. I had been shot. I was now wanted, and stuck in a house for who knows how long.

At least I wasn't dead.

My eyes turned to the screen, and my heart almost popped out of my chest. The TV was displaying an arena that looked drastically different from past games.

The cameras showed a huge opening in the ground nearby some odd looking trees. We got an aerial view of it, and it looked as if there was water flowing down it. The trees looked like massive sticks of broccoli.

It switched to another camera, and we could see a large lake. It seemed that everything here looked weird, as the water was purple.

There was also a large mound of ants about the size of a small building, and then a swampy area that looked as if it was on the other side of the arena.

And then what we had all been waiting for, the camera switched to the cornucopia. The countdown was now at twenty, and I knew this was about get bad.

The tributes were standing on their pedestals, wearing green jackets with leather collars and a strap around the back, along with big numbers on the middle of the jacket that I figured represented the tributes district.

They had jeans with black straps around the sides with the rest of the color being green.

The camera then zoomed in on Sophia. She looked almost completely different from the way I had remembered her looking the last time I saw her. She looked tired, and just downright mad.

The screen quickly switched to our male tribute from 11 and I remembered his name to be Josh. We got a look at the other tributes, and they all looked bulky and strong, as if they had trained before they were reaped.

"Venice! The games are on," Sahara shouted, and Venice came running into the room. She sat down in a chair beside the window.

"Oh look its Josh," Venice said, and noticed my overall concerned look.

"Don't worry I told him to take care of your sister for you."

The gong sounded, and the tributes leaped off their pedestals. Sophia hid behind hers as if waiting for something, and unbuckled the strap on her back.

Part of me wanted to yell at the screen telling her to run.

The cameras switched to a dual screen between Sophia and Josh. Josh ran past a huge girl, with the number twelve on her jacket on his way to the cornucopia.

Instead of running at Josh, she ran at the sight of a smaller tribute.

Josh grabbed a backpack for himself and then a one I thought might be for Sophia. Inside the cornucopia were boxes and crates, and weapons lined up all over the walls. He grabbed a curved sword, and then a large knife.

He hit the approaching District 7 male across the head with one of the backpacks and ran into the direction of the swampy area.

A boy ran near Sophia's hiding place, and she quickly overpowered him. She held him to the ground, and tied the strap around his neck tightly. In only a minute he had stopped breathing.

Before, my sister had acted as if she was afraid of violence in general. She had cried at the sight of it. Too afraid to even watch past games with me. But now she was the first tribute to make a kill?!

"What the heck? I said out loud, that's my sister?"

"As far as I can tell, responded Sahara, why?"

"Because she just doesn't seem like herself," I said.

"A lot can change in a week you know, said Sahara. Especially if that week happens to be the week your training for the Hunger Games."

I thought about that for a second.

When our two tributes escaped the bloodbath unharmed, the dual screen switched to the next closest district tributes. Tributes from District 6.

Whenever the games start, the knobs on the television are made to work specifically for it. If you turn them, the screen switches to another tribute.

I told Sahara to switch back to Josh and Sophia.

It was a good thing they were dressed with boots, because the mud in the swamp looked as if it could be quicksand. Whenever they stepped, their boots would sink deeper.

Sophia's foot sunk down, and Josh needed to pull her out.

She mumbled a few words under her breath. This new Sophia I was seeing was making me upset.

We watched some more of the games and I started wondering if Sophia's new apparent way of doing things might actually bring her home.

And then coming from the door we could hear a loud banging.

"Oh no he's back," Sahara said looking outside the window.

Somehow things continued to go from scary and calm and vice versa. I tried getting up to look too but she told me not too.

"I'll got tell him he has the wrong house again," Venice said, closing the door to the room.

Sahara told her to be careful. She sat down her machete and headed to the door. It opened and I could hear Venice's voice. Sahara and I got quiet.

Venice let out a scream, and we could hear footsteps nearing the room.

The footsteps stopped at the door, and it became completely quiet.

I looked over at Sahara, who was now taking deep breaths.

There was a quiet knock, and then banging.

It didn't take long for the door to pop open, allowing a peacekeeper to walk in. I scooted back in the bed, this wasn't good.

He took out his gun and before he could use it, his head came clean off. Blood splattered over the floor, and the body fell to the ground.

Venice stood at the doorway holding her now bloodied machete.

"Oops," she said.

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	5. The Blood

**This story will start out slow, and I can promise it won't take place in a house the entire time. Starting as of now, something major will happen every five chapters, and it will definitely switch up the plot. All reviews are greatly appreciated, and I'd also like to thank everyone that has taken their time to do so. So shoutouts to stellaslomp,** **ArtemisCarolineSnow**, **and** **USANAguy for reading and reviewing!**

I've never seen so much blood in my life. It's gotten all over the sheets now, including my face and shirt and the fact that's is still warm, after gushing out of the fallen peacekeepers neck seven minutes ago makes me shudder.

I try to wipe it off with my towel, but only smear it. In no time at all my once silk white towel has now turned an ugly dark red, and I toss it on the ground.

The vulgar noise of arguing is all over the house now, and I lock myself in the bathroom. Thanks to the mirror, I know now that the blood has destroyed my almost perfect hair.

It now in a way resembles the towel, and I scoop up some water that's sitting in a bucket on top of the counter. I dump it over my head.

I feel uneasy, or as if I'm going to be sick when I watch the bloody water wash down the drain. That sure was a lot of blood.

The bottom cabinet swings open when I search for more towels, instead I find medicines and pain killers. Only when I look through the cabinet by the bathtub do I find the much awaited towels and rags.

I clean myself thoroughly, and nicely fold the towel. My shirt is pretty much done, and I decide to take it off as well.

The bandage around my chest is no longer stand able, and I make an attempt at taking it off to. Pulling and trying to tear it doesn't work, and only makes the pain grow. So I looked around for some scissors.

When I turn around, a certain item on the rim of the tub catches my eye. It's an empty bottle of morphling.

Even though it's used as a pain killer, it has all sorts of other uses and drinking happens to be one of them. Mother used to be a morphling addict, and I was starting to wonder if someone here was.

Regardless of her age, I don't doubt the fact that it could be Venice from the start. When I bend down to pick it up, I notice an object under the rug.

Sure enough, it was the scissors. Odd though, because the blades were covered in dried blood. I didn't feel like wasting any more water so I spit on a rag, rubbed off the blood, and drowned the scissors in rubbing alcohol.

I felt the immediate relief, and sighed as I cut the bandage off. My wound was stitched up, and healing nicely. There was a small scar on my chest, and I figured if Sahara hadn't stitched it up, it must not have been that bad.

When I finally left the bathroom, she was standing outside the door. She looked no better than I had, and before she could speak, I handed her a fresh towel and kept walking.

I walked back into the room and found Venice eating a carrot. She had done her hair into the style of a pony tail, and was wearing a grey sweater along with a pair of black socks.

We just looked at each other until I decided to say something.

"What was going through your mind when you killed that man?" I asked.

"Man?" Oh, the peacekeeper? She thought for a second before speaking, well I looked at it as a life or death situation, she said. If didn't kill him, he would've killed you. No doubt."

I thought on what she had just said.

"Why are you and Sahara so caught up in trying to keep me alive? You don't even know me."

Venice rolled her eyes after looking at Sahara.

"You can go ahead and ask her, she said, she's the one running this whole thing. She got like this after dad."

Sahara walked in dressed and cleaned up. She handed me a shirt and started to walk outside with the bucket. Venice called her.

"I'm going to bed," she said.

Sahara looked surprised, "you don't even want to discuss the incident that happened today? Venice shook her head, can you at least come and give me a hand with the pump? It's only 6:40…"

Venice grabbed two more carrots, and walked into her room.

"I'd rather not," Venice says as she closed her door.

"I'll help you ma'am," I offered.

"Landon, you know if you step out here someone might see you. I've got it, its fine."

"Sure" I said, and I put on some boots and walked out. Sahara looked in both directions and pointed for me to go back inside.

"You can't keep me in there forever."

Sahara sighed, "I guess I can't."

We were both silent for a while, and only communicated by nods and gestures. The pump here was harder to use then mine, and not much more water would come out either. As much as I knew this wouldn't be an appropriate question to ask, I just had to know.

"Do you have a husband?" I ask.

Sahara smiled and checked how much water was in her bucket.

"Yes, but he's dead."

I hit my forehead. Sophia would ask questions like this, and I see where she gets it from now. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.

"We used to live in victors village, she said much to my amazement, but they kicked us out when he died."

"Come on, Landon, that's all we need." She whispers, and I walk over to hold the door for her.

Josh helps Sophia back up as her boot sinks out of view into the marsh. I whisper a quiet "thank you" to screen and watch as they continue further through the mucky environment. Josh walks behind to make sure nothing sneaks up on them, and so he can keep Sophia in his eyesight.

The commentator reminds us of his skill, saying that he made quick work out of a tribute that came at them some time after the bloodbath. He trusts that Josh knows what he's doing with his curved sword, so we should too.

Then he speaks about Sophia saying, "I honestly didn't expect much from Sophia before, but after seeing her little stunt with the strap, I think we may actually have a true contestant this year." I was just as confused as he was when Sophia went vicious on the boy and strangled him, because never in a million years would I expect her to do something like that. Violently taking someone's life.

"Hold up, I'll be right back." Josh says much to Sophia's concerned look. "Stay right here and don't move unless I say so." Mentally, I pray that Josh doesn't leave her alone. The cameras change to an aerial view, and Josh stops about twelve feet away looking forward.

"It's a dead-end, Sophia, we have to turn back." The screen shows the front view of the long expanding cliff and the trees that wait not too far below it.

Just then, a parachute drifts down, and Sophia catches it in her hands. "I wonder what that could be, says the commentator, open it and show us, Sophia!" He says as if she can hear him. She does eventually open it, though, and inside is a spatula and a small plastic container.

A zoom in shows us that the container is labeled, "crab seasoning". Sophia drops the utensils and items into the shallow mud and looks around worriedly.

"Josh?" she whispers almost. He comes running over and stares down at supplies she dropped and then at the sponsor parachute.

"I wonder what they could have sent this to you for, he says, don't worry, whatever it is I can handle it." _Thanks Josh_.

A single crab the size of my hand crawls out from the grass, and Josh readies his weapon. "Maybe they just wanted us to have a good supper." Josh says trying to make a joke.

"Or a feast." Sophia says as a dozen more crawl out to join in with the other. She steps back as Josh urges her to do so.

"Run!" She does, and Josh kicks away any that get to close. When they reach the cliff, Josh pulls out a metal sheet of armor from his pack and straps it around Sophia's chest and waist.

"You're going to have jump now, and hope those trees catch you like a pillow." She looks at him like he's crazy.

"What if I break something going down? And you need armor too!"

"I'll be fine, he says, and would you rather break something, or be torn apart by their claws?" he points at the crab mutts getting closer.

"I'll see you on the way down." He says.

"Promise?"

"Promise." He gives her a light shove and she tumbles violently down the hill doing flips and twists; and I call out her name each time. Thankfully, though, when she finally arrives at the bottom, she's perfectly fine.

Josh on the other hand jumps with what he's currently wearing, with no added armor. He tumbles through branches and thorny vines and rips open his jacket. Near the ground, he's stopped short by a stick that jabs him clear through the leg.

He howls in pain as Sophia watches.

"Josh, no!" she screams, and for her, he begins hacking at the stick with his sword. After the second slash, it breaks, leaving him dangling by an extra piece of root. At some point, the strength of his leg is no longer strong enough to hold his body weight, and it snaps causing him to fall.

When he meets the ground, he's a bloody mess. Sophia runs over with a first aid kit, pulling out a bandage stating that "we can wrap it up."

Josh takes a long and hard look at the cuts on his arm and his mangled leg and shakes his head. "No, he says, don't waist it on me."

"No, we can save you!" Sophia cries, tears swelling her eyes. A puddle of blood has surrounded her boots where Josh lays.

"No, just don't. You'll need that stuff later. He says, stroking her hair. You're going to get far, okay? Please, for me." I smile, a grateful smile.

She nods. "Yes Josh, I will."

"And remember, Sophia, trust no one." He says, right before his cannon sounds and his image becomes clear in the sky.

Sahara grows teary eyed at the screen. "He was a great friend to us, Josh, he was." But I had other reasons to appreciate Josh. He protected my sister when I couldn't, and that's alright in my book.

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	6. The Breaking Point

Sophia's POV

My eyes are weak from weeping uncontrollably, and for a second I question where I am. The unfamiliar feeling of now being completely alone sends chills down my spine, and I feel as if I'm lost, with no one left to find me.

It's gotten darker now, and I wonder how long I've spent in this same spot. I'm now about as motionless as the lifeless boy in front of me, the one that died trying to help me. The one that died because of me. I slam my fist down on his chest and yell.

The few times I've seen these types of deaths on past games usually don't affect me, but even though Josh and I have only spent little time together, his death was seriously affecting me. He had a family too, and he probably already knew he wasn't ever going to see them again.

I reach into his bag and pull out a match. I feel for a nearby branch, and drive the tip across it. The tiny fire flickers at the top, and I can feel the heat on my face, even when holding it from a distance. I lower my hand down to Josh's head and notice his many scratches. My heart races at the sight of his dead gray eyes, looking up to the sight of nothing.

A heavy feeling grows in the back of my throat, and I quickly close both his eyes with my index finger. There's now a bloody stump where his leg used to be, as well as a large cut on his stomach, almost hidden by his ripped jacket that's now mostly disfigured.

I kick the stick as far as I can, and then I stomp out the match. My breathing grows heavy as I pull at my hair until my scalp starts to bleed. I'm to angry at myself to actually feel the pain. Guilt shoots through me and fall back on the ground.

The quietness, erupts into noise as the anthem begins to play. The girl that was killed earlier appears again in the sky, and then Josh.

His face looks so clean and neat in the quick image I get that reminds me of being outside the arena, while his face now is bloody and scratched. I start to cry, and shut my eyes closed. I can't cry anymore. Not just because of my sore puffy eyes, but because this might as well be my breaking point. I'm not going to cry anymore. I'm going to see much worse things while I'm here, and there's no need to complain about it.

Josh was told that it was his job to protect me and he had failed doing so, and I thank him. Now it's my job to do the next thing he couldn't. To survive. Because I don't want to die like this.

I kiss the palm of my hand and place it on his forehead. A thing we do in eleven that means good luck, even though he has none eft.

"Rest in peace, I say, and thank you." And when I walked off. Not looking back.

I could hear the hovercraft arrive behind me immediately, as if it had been waiting. We had built a small shelter on the muddy hill, but it contained too many memories. Not the fact that the crab mutts where probably up there, but because of Josh dyeing there. That place to me would be full of bad spirits, and I should have burnt it down. I light another match.

That match was the only light now, and walking in the dark was creepy. The moon hasn't been out here at all, and every rustling in the bushes would put me in the position to head for the protection of the trees. After a while, I started to just shrug it off.

Somewhere ahead I spotted a faint glow in between the narrow entrance to some trees. I move for a closer look, and see the giant Tetra Jades from District 12, sitting by a fire. I step back intending to head for the other direction, and she here's my quick movement.

She stands up with a large mace and begins to walk towards me, while I desperately look for a place to hide. I don't think she saw me, but she's clearly aware of my presence.

The back of a tree is used as my hiding place as Tetra walks out just where I was standing.

"I know your there" she shouts. And I hush up.

My hand feels an opening in a large half of a fallen tree, and I slowly crawl inside it.

Inside the tree, my head moves right into what feels like a web, but I don't make a sound. The feeling is terrible, and it gets worse when I swear a spider crawls onto my nose. Please don't be poisonous.

Tetra swings her mace against the tree I was just against, and steps over the tree. She takes a deep breath, and walks back over to her fire.

Then I remember I left the backpacks near a bush. I don't dare move as I can't afford to make any more noise. When Tetra finds those bags in the morning, she's going to know someone's there. I feel for my knife and can't find it. That must've been in the bag to.

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	7. The Outing

**Could everyone do the user Goldenmoonlight42 a favor and create a tribute for her Hunger Game's SYOT? There's seven spot's left and she would love it if you could contribute.**

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_Landon's POV_

Part of the rules here state that no one's allowed out after dark, and that no one is allowed out early in the morning. But for once, I was happy for those rules. Because if they hadn't once been put into place, I wouldn't be able to do what I needed to do.

If there were too many people out, I would probably come across as suspicious. But since I'm almost the only one outside, this should be easy.

I'm expected to be home by Sahara while she's gone, but just like her, I've decided to use the morning to my advantage. And this too.

I tighten the black visor running down my helmet, and then quickly make the vest more comfortable. I'm using the dead peacekeeper's outfit as a disguise, and it's only slightly big for me.

Even though the helmet was sliced off, Venice was able to sew it back on. The tiny blood stains farther above the vest would easily go unseen, making the only hard part getting the severed head out. Her fast needlework was almost good enough to compare to Sophia's.

Sahara snuck outside to try and rid us of the body; so if everything work's the way I want it too, I should return right before she does.

Mother always told me to think before I act… even though she was clearly incapable of following the rule herself, so I question,_ am I acting first or thinking._

_I'm definitely acting first, as no one in their right mind would think about trying this. But I'm not going out here completely visible, even if it does mean certain death if I'm caught like this._

_Sophia's POV_

I let my eyes open slowly, with the intentions of not hurting them since their still sore from last night. They feel red and puffy around the corners, and my vision is extra foggy when I stare forward. I'll have to deal with it.

I nearly forget where I am as I began the tricky task of exiting the log. I almost imagined myself home, just waking up from a long refreshing sleep. Exited to speak to Landon first chance I got. I quickly remind myself that that's not the case.

I'm in the arena, hiding in a log from a huge tribute. The two backpacks I can see through crack taunt me. There so close but so far. I can run over and grab them, but that would test my speed at lifting them on my back before Tetra noticed me.

And Tetra sure seemed like a tribute who wouldn't mind sounding the cannon for a younger one. And that mace she carries seemed pretty fierce too.

Food, water, my weapon. Just a few feet away. Why couldn't I just muster up the courage to bolt out and…

Rustling through the bushes and fernery with their clicking, and clacking of weapons, comes some people I never thought I'd be happy to see. The career pack, the only ones that would have it in them to take Tetra down.

"Guy's, over here!" I hear the cheery shout of the lead tribute in charge. He was a mess in training, in other words, he could use some _anger management_. Not too long after, the other's answer back.

"Look what we have here, someone else says, the cutie from 12."

"She ain't cute, she's ugly." My opening is clear when I finally dart for the packs. I nearly trip in the moist dirt. Good thing I don't because that would have surely made a commotion. As I rip my knife from the bag pocket, I look to the side one last time through the small visibility that the bushes offer me.

Tetra is in a defensive stance, staring down the careers for what they are. But regardless, she's met her match. A full blown sprint gets me far from where I don't want to be. I'll stop to rest in a second, but right now, I want to distant myself as best I can from where two cannons just fired.

_POW!_

I'm on my butt, and only then do I realize that I was biting down hard on my lip. I let it gush from my mouth as I look up at the person who caused my stumble.

"District 2." I scoff, she must've have been scouting the area before she came across me.

_Landon's POV_

Trash litters the floor of what I used to call home. I'm heart broken, distraught. I just can't even. My knees drop to the now splinter covered floor. Whatever is in the silk used for the peacekeeper suit keeps me from feeling it, but even if it wasn't there, I wouldn't care anyway.

The place I spent twenty-two years in, grew up in, is gone. Emptied and destroyed. The water pump from outside is gone, literally ripped from its place, and the windows have been shot and smashed out around the house.

Tables, and chairs have been knocked over, torn at, chipped at. And just plain broke. And my mother's old cabinet has been thrown to the floor, now a mess of sharp pointed wood.

Inside Sophia and I's room, I break down again. Nothing is left. No beds, dressers, mirrors. The picture of us has even been taken, with some cruel person having thrown the frame to the floor.

Past the tears, I notice one last sign of hope. A fancy silver plate stashed in the fallen cabinet, my mom's favorite.

_Sophia's POV _

With fiery red eyes, and dirty leave covered hair, she smiles at me. A nasty smile that I won't forget. And then she draws her sword, playfully bows, and charges me.

I duck when it comes for my head, then kick her in the stomach. She steps backwards, and gives me another chance with my knife. I swing for her throat, to which I have to tippy-toe for, but she deflects, and then twists my wrist.

"Ow!" I protest. She smiles again and twists harder. Were on the ground now, and I continue to struggle, reaching for my knife left lying on the ground.

When I feel it's gone on long enough, and my wrist is about to pop, I shove up my legs until they press into her stomach, and watch her go flying. The way she hits the ground, seems a little funny to me. She calls out louder than I did, and unintentionally makes herself seem, weak. Like a looser.

_Looser. That's what I'll call her, Looser._

"You got here to easy, she says. I saw your video, you volunteered. But me? I got picked for trying to kill my brother. And I guess my District figured that I'd be better off in the arena." I act like I'm ignoring her, but I really think on it. It makes me wonder what the other tributes did to be sent to this.

The discomfort in my foot makes it hard to stand, and I end up falling down trying. I take this as my moment to look around. There's trees everywhere, some oddly placed rocks, and a little river that lead's into a lake. Wait, that lake's purple.

Knife in hand, I run past the rocks, and to the lake. Looser begins to chase after. As she catches up, I stop to fight again, but this time, her sword sticks me in the leg.

I grunt as she presses her boot against it. It's like needles stabbing my skin all in the same place. I want to call out, but I control it. It's all about becoming stronger.

"How does that feel, sweetie? She asks. Good, or bad?" I roll my eyes best I can without them hurting.

"Not pleasant." I respond. She laughs, like the evil witches Landon described in the fairy tells he read to me. Looser look's me in the eye, "How many of us are left, like what, Fourteen?"

"No thirteen, I struggle to say, because I'm going to kill you," if they weren't already, I'm pretty sure all screens are focusing on me. I probably should stop talking now.

She does her laugh again, and presses her boot harder against my wound. The pain is a combination of stinging and burning. No matter how hard I try, I can't move.

She laughs some more and pour's a handful of dirt over my eyes. Even when I try to close them, the dirt still seeps in. I'm getting even more frustrated now, and I try to bite her hand. She makes a face and grab's me by my hair. I'm now being dragged across the rock filled ground. Every time I hit one, I bump up.

When she reaches the edge of the lake she let's go. Maybe she's goanna drown _me_ now.

I remain motionless when she start's kicking me. There's only so many blow's to the head I can take, and I prepare for my final attempt at escaping.

Landon once told me that one punch to the nose will leave the enemy in tears. And when I tried it on the bully at school, it worked. So when she stood over me to shove my head underwater- letting her guard down for just once -I did just that. She immediately moved her hands to her nose, and I put all force into both my feet. I would just have to do this one more time.

I pressed my feet against her stomach, and pushed up.

She flung over my head and landed into the purple water with a splash. When I tried to stand, the soreness in my foot was worse. Plus the cut.

I turned around to the sound of screaming, and could see bubbling bubbles of acid as Looser cried for her life. The skin was literally melting from her bones, and I looked away. Trying to block out the sound.

I grabbed her sword and slowly limped. _Acid water. Who would've thought?_

_"__Grace!" the lead career called out, alerting me that he and whoever was left were on their way. I grabbed my stuff and did the best I could at running._

_Landon's POV_

By the time I arrive at the gates to the field, it's filled with workers. I looked down at my watch and it read's Eleven-fifty-seven. Perfect timing.

**Please Review. Tell me how I can improve. And don't forget to check out Goldenmoonlight42'S SYOT!**


	8. The LunaJay's and Zombies

**Author's Note: Check out the link to Goldenmoonlight42's SYOT on my profile. They would love it if you could review and tell them what you think!**

**Flax Weaver POV, (District 8), left side of arena**

* * *

><p>"You shouldn't walk out into the open like that," I say as she trudges off towards the dead trees. She refuses to even look back at me, and ignores my calls as well.<p>

This rocky part of the arena was no place to play around in. Tiny bits of cactus stuck out of the ground some so tiny that it was impossible to spot them.

I sighed and rubbed the bottom of my boots. My feet hurt just thinking about it.

My fellow ally gazes up at the top of tree, and I call for her again. Finally, her brunette colored hair moves to the right as she looks back at me.

I haven't noticed how cute she was until now apparently, and I stuttered on what I was going to say just thinking about it.

"Nothing? Okay. Your injured remember, as far as we know, that could be our supper up there. Supper you wouldn't be able to get without me."

I roll my eyes, and look down at my infected leg wound. We were both unble to grab anything from the cornucopia, leaving us to make our own weapons.

And of course, eating whatever we could find.

I quickly look up at the tree when I hear the loud snap of a branch. Aluma stepped back, but quickly walked back up.

"It's nothing," she shouted.

"Yes it is, what was it?" I ask pointing at the tree. She looks back up and replies.

"Just some mockingjays, that's all."

"Kill it, we could use it for food."

She shakes her head and glares, "I still haven't gone completely savage like you yet."

The bird chirps back down at Aluma, and she whistles back. This continues on and by the time Aluma's in the middle of a full on performance, about a dozen other mockingjays have flew to the same tree.

It didn't take long for me to realize those weren't really mockingjays. They were lunajays. As popular as they became in last year's games, I couldn't see how the gamemakers would miss the opportunity to draw in more viewers with them this year.

There white feathers quickly switch to a bright green, and I know exactly at that time that they were about to perform their signature move.

"Aluma!"

She turned around again and I pointed at the birds. They're chirps turned to screeching, and I covered my ears.

My District partner's growing screams became nothing compared to the loud screeching of the lunajays. I watched as she dropped to the ground, and continued to scream.

I pressed harder down on my ears. The sound still wasn't completely block able, but it was bearable. Aluma was no longer making noise, but she was alive. Just not moving.

Besides, lunajays aren't designed to kill. No bother shouting to her anymore, she was gone.

About five minutes later, the terrible sound stopped. And the birds grew quit. I clutched my sharpened stick in my hand, and waited.

Soon, Aluma stood up and slowly limped towards me. Blood drips from ears now and her eyes are completely blank.

Now, there was nothing left of her except for a mindless zombie.

"Aluma… show a sign…"

Aluma waddled over to where I sat, and reached out her hands. If it wasn't for the stupid boy from 7, I'd be able to easily stand now.

"Aluma!"

She reached for my neck, and started to squeeze. I grabbed her arm with my free hand and whispered softly.

"Please don't make me do this."

She squeezes even tighter, and I know that our partnership is over, "I'm sorry, I say as I stab the stick into the side of her head, please forgive me."

Her cannon finally sound's, even though she was long gone. A twelve year old, gone. I cry softly, as I crawl away for the hovercraft can get her body.

The lunajays were gone. And they had taken my partner- _my friend _– with them. Leaving the blood on my hands. Now I really had something to win for, Aluma.

I just had to worry about what people back in eight would think about me, now that I've finished off my ally.

* * *

><p>The Lunajays fly in there group for an hour. Specifically created to turn their victim's into mindless 'animals' whose only intent is to kill, they had been made to make the games more interesting.<p>

Mostly favored by the capital, the head gamemaker had been requested by citizens to bring them back almost all year.

The birds fluttered silently over to the swampy side of the arena, and landed in different trees. They had just now spotted their soon to be second victim, Sophia Spite.

* * *

><p><strong>Sophia Spite POV<strong>

I couldn't wait to be out of this place. Home, Safe. But with Landon dead, mostly alone. The cannon signaling Aluma Nolan had sounded earlier, leaving 12 of us left.

I stomped my way through a small marsh.

I knew that I was going to kill at least one other tribute, and whenever I did I was going to make that kill count.

I looked upwards at the sight of a small green bird fly by. I've never seen these before though, which would make sense because I've only watched two entire Hunger Games in my life.

I whistled to it and held out my finger. It landed, and tweeted in back in response. I knew it wasn't real, and had probably been genetically created. But it was still beautiful. I sighed softly.

I used to love animals. Until I found out about the existence of mutts.

Several more flew over and began circling me from above, and I realized my mistake. This wasn't a friendly creature. It had led me into a trap.

I shook it off my hand, and it flew into the air. It rustled up its green feathers, and I fell to my feet when I heard its ear piercing screech.

The others started up too, and I struggled to cover my ears. As soon as I did, I shut my eyes as well when I felt what seemed like my head turning to jelly.

* * *

><p><strong>Atom Watt POV, (District 5), swamp area<strong>

I ran full speed, passing trees with oddly covered birds on them. I stopped to catch my breath and to check if I was still being chased.

They were gone.

I might've seen the District 11 girl's fist swing right into my face if I had been paying attention. She pinned me to the ground, arm on neck, and punched me again.

"I'm having fun, are you?"

She asked, pulling out a match. I shrieked when she lit it across my skin and held it against my face. She shined it to close to my eye, and I felt the terrible pain as slowly burned

My whole body erupts into flames when she throws it on me, and I try to get her off. I knew I was going to die, but didn't know it would be like this.

I managed to kick her stomach, and I swear her eye twitched. She pulled out a huge knife and stuck it in my arm. It dug deeper into my skin as she twisted its handle.

"Stop! Please…" I pleaded. But my vision grew blurry when the blade punctured my heart. Then my mind swirled away and I closed my eyes for good.

* * *

><p>Sophia continued to stab Atom long after his cannon had fired. She was able to block out most of the sounds from the birds, but some of it had seeped in.<p>

Now half sane, half insane, and with a mindset to kill, she planned on slaughtering the remainder of the tributes. Whichever way she possibly could.

**Please Review! They keep me going.**

**Chapter 10 will be big.**


	9. The Plan

_Venice's POV_

I don't like it when people take advantage of mom's kind approach, it makes me angry, and Landon has done just that by not coming back at the time he promised, which was a little over an hour ago. Though, I did make him a promise as well. Which would be pointless on my part as he's done us nothing.

"Where is he?" Mom asks worriedly. I try to avoid eye contact as I always look guilty when I do.

"I don't know, not here?" she frowns and puts her hands on her head, then starts pacing the room. She stares outside the window, and her voice turns into a shriek when she demands an answer.

"Did he leave the house?!" I jump at her approach, she doesn't scream very often, and I don't like it when she does. After a long minute of staring, I open the basket in the kitchen and grab a carrot. She impatiently watches me bite down on it, and I watch her with all the patience in the world.

"Well, I guess he did." I say. She starts pacing again, then stops dead at the window and turns around to face me.

"You didn't…"

"No I didn't kill him! I shout. Why would you think that?"

"You killed that peacekeeper."

"But you're the one who wanted me to go into the Games, if his stupid sister hadn't volunteered!" She stops and thinks about what she said, and notices that I'm hurt. I killed the peacekeeper to stop him from killing us, to protect us all.

"Where's my machete?" I ask. She does as best a job of avoiding eye contact as I could.

"I put it up." She says, and I ball my fists.

"You thought I'd kill someone else too, huh?" Then I grab another carrot, and take the left that leads to my room.

_Landon's POV_

I'm shaky about what I'm about to do, and I have every right to be. I'm attempting to communicate with someone who knows me as a criminal, but also as a friend. I doubt that Kale would say something, but I don't completely doubt that he won't either.

I take what Venice said about knowing who to trust into full consideration, but Kale wasn't just a friend, he was one of my best.

"Kale. I whisper, he freezes when he notices that it's a peacekeeper by him. It's me, Landon." He pats me good on the back along with a hug.

"I knew you'd show back up." He says.

_Sophia's POV_

Every sound hurts as I struggle to get back up. I'm not sure where their all coming from, but one sounds familiar to a voice. Landon's vice almost, and it's heartwarming to hear him again. Just not what he's saying.

"End it now Sophia. Stick yourself in the chest and come join me." I started to earlier, but Josh stepped in and told me that it wouldn't be a good idea. And that Landon wouldn't really want that. At the moment, a blare like a siren is playing through my ears now, I trip over my own feet trying to listen to it.

On my knees, something towers over me. An ant mound the size of a small house, with millions of tiny six legged creatures inhabiting it. Then Landon comes back, and begins to tell me that he's hiding inside. Waiting for me.

I believe him, because he doesn't lie to me, and I jump into it.

_Landon's POV_

"What! Landon, that's insane!" I remove my mask. Kale can be both the easiest person to talk too, and the hardest.

"It's for my sister!" I say, wondering why he doesn't understand.

He nods. "Landon look, I would be glad to help. It's just, well there's eleven people left and your sisters only thirteen! Two years older than my sister! Someone I have to protect! And I can't risk both of our lives trying to help someone that can't be saved! It's a miracle she's even still around."

"Are you not listening to what I'm saying? This is my sister, and I came to you to help out of everyone. You couldn't just be as kind as to help a friend out?"

He puts his hand over his chin as to consider it, and I watch wanting an answer. "Would you rather help and escape, or be gun downed with me for speaking to me?"

"Escape? Landon, first of all, they would never gun down a Victor, and second, on the rare chance that she makes it home, you expect to get her out of the ceremony without being killed?"

"We've got a gun," I say, his eyes widen at the sight of it when I pull it out.

"We?" he asks. Oh snap. I've done it, I've revealed Sahara and I's secret.

"Um… no, yes…"

He squint's, "who are they?" No use trying to lie now.

"Just some nice people, that's all," he's not satisfied.

"If you want my help Landon, your goanna tell me what's going on." I sigh before starting.

"It's a long story," I say handing him the wanted poster I found with a picture of Sahara on it.

_Venice's POV_

I've left to go find Landon for mom. He should have been around here somewhere. But he wasn't. When he left earlier, I followed him quietly to this spot by a tree.

But no Landon anywhere here, then a peacekeeper strolls by. I'm really not so sure that it's him, but it could be I guess. That peacekeeper is about his height, and has a similar build as him. I almost wave.

Probably not though, he would have seen me by now.

I kind of want to head back home, but I'd better not. Mom is no doubt still mad at me, or either still crying on the floor where I last left her.

Oh well, she'd get over it. Like I had.

_Sophia's POV_

Josh grabs my arm and holds me back. I feel comforted to see him. He explains that it really isn't my brother hiding in an ant mound, but I'm not entirely convinced. I reach my hand into the tower, and pull it back out with a hundred or so creatures covering my arm.

The scary thing is, it's not the mound that's scary, but the fact that the bugs biting me don't hurt. I can't even feel them. As I start to brush them off, giving up on finding Landon in there, Josh shows me to a canyon.

We trek through the dry area, and looking back, I see the mound. Every time I stare at him, my vision grows foggy, so I begin to talk to him looking down.

"We have been everywhere. Through a forest, a marsh, a swamp, and now a valley." Then I ask him something.

"Are swamps and marshes the same thing?" he pauses before answering.

"Sort of." He says. I thought so.

_Landon's POV_

I tell Kale what I want him to do, and that's to gather me a group of people. Arnie, a pretty smart boy. Weeded and Tomas who are inseparable. And Harold, the nice old man who says he's willing to help me whenever, and the one who gave me the watch.

"I can do that. Kale says. Stay at my house tonight." I ponder for a second, then agree.

"Sure, I say, I can do that."

_Sophia's POV_

At first, there was only one rumble. Then two. Then three. Then a huge crack in the ground. There would be no reason that I could think of for the gamemakers to allow this to happen to just me, so I suspect there's others here as well.

I was correct, and before I know it, my mind takes over my body. Just a minute ago, I was standing perfectly still. Now I'm bolting for the bloody girl from 7, even though she's much larger.

Another earthquake throws me off my feet, and I'm tumbling in cactus covered sand. There's numbness around the area of where I fell, but I still can't feel a thing.

Six cannon's just go off, six. Their eliminating people, lots of them. My only guess is that the viewer's think something's boring.

I regain my footing, and charge again at the girl. Still lying on the ground dazed from the sudden quake, I end up killing her in minutes.

Four of us left now, including me.

Venice's POV

When I get back, mom has my machete in her hands with a ribbon on it.

**Please Review!**


	10. The Great Escape

**The games end, and something crazy happens at the end! I'd suggest reading the whole thing. Thanks again, please review!**

**Sophia's POV**

A flicker of light erupts in the sky and the quick image of the capitol seal can be seen through the trees atop the large mountain in the valley. Before I can get a good look at it, or at least a small glance, the quick image of the fallen tribute disappears again.

Usually while in math at school, I've grown into the habit of using what my teacher's call finger counting. It's generally looked down upon their, though it definitely won't matter in the arena. So that's exactly what I do to remember whose left.

There's Joshua from I think one, him and the other career that's still alive. The 8 boy and… me. But that still doesn't add up as those were the same people left as my last count just before. One of them died, just who? It's aggravating actually, as theirs no way of knowing until the nightly anthem starts.

I longingly gaze up at the setting sun, surrounded by what looks like an orange blanket of fluffy clouds. As the sun gets closer and closer to disappearing for the night, I know I only have so much longer to wait. Whoever it was that just died made it easier for the rest of us to win.

A sharp feeling runs through my head as the throbbing begins to come back. I'm attacked by flashbacks of the beginning of the games and how I killed the first tribute, and how I was responsible for the death of two more later. Well three I guess if you count Josh. I can pretty much figure that I'll never get over that while for some reason the other fatalities I just don't seem to regret.

I just about tortured the kid from five while laughing, and then mutilated his body soon after. I know I'm not myself, but I just can't seem to remember why.

When I first arrived to the capitol, I was sadder than anything. The sight of seeing my brother's dying eyes destroyed whatever anticipated experience I had about coming here. Actually, before that I had already done something stupid or odd too. I volunteered!

I can't even describe the feeling I felt. But whatever it was, it sure didn't stop me from calling out the four words until everything was contained enough for them to acknowledge me. Maybe it was from seeing that poor lady die next to Landon, or the numerous other slaying's I witnessed. I knew one thing though. And that was that I was mad at Landon, enraged. Because as soon as my one and only mentor informed me of what the chaos was all about, I knew he had already known.

As soon as my headache leaves, I take the time and consideration to neatly arrange my supplies and weapons. When I pull a small shovel from the District 7 girls orange pack, it immediately reminds me of District 11.

The holes we dug to plant the small pebble like seeds around our gardens and crops. The idea is to start out small with the planting and work your way up to the big tools like machetes. Rumor has it that a young girl once got her hands on one, and someone lost their hand.

I stick the shovel into my side pocket, and move onto my next item. I decide that all my weapons will stay making an exception for the bent knife from the 5 boy's bag.

I'm low on food, but supplied with plenty of water. That should be fine because one is more important than the other. Besides, tonight just might be the end of the games. I can feel it.

Plus, I doubt that the gamemaker's will let three remaining tribute go on for the rest of the night, so it has to definitely be ending today.

Before I can wonder where the time went, the light appears again as well as the anthem of Panem. It's Clifford Blade from District 2. There's a number of ways that the strong looking kid could have died by actually, and his alliance could very well have been one of them.

I remember Joshua from the training center and interviews, and how seriously he took the things. He probably finished off his partner himself, but hey. I would've done the same.

The walk to the cornucopia takes a good three hours or so. I figured that I should probably start moving before I was forced to. The sight of the dark figure in front of me almost gives me chills. This I were so many tributes died at, were some of the goriest deaths took place. Oh well, I did partake in the madness.

I make out a shape in the shadows as well. Something close to a pile. A pyramid. I realize it's just the pile of food put together by the careers, and I take the time eat from the large packets and duffle bags. For once, I actually feel full.

This could be a trap, as in Joshua hiding on the other side. But hey! Let him come, I can take him. It would be a pleasure to actually. Wait, I did it again. I really shouldn't want to kill, but it's as if my brain has been rewired. Like it's been made this way, as if I'm fighting against myself to not go crazy. Maybe I can control it if a little more effort is put into it.

Someone does end up coming, just not Joshua though. The boy from 8, Flax I think. I can tell who he is by his build, and I'm not a least bit intimidated. Especially after watching him limp because of what I guess was a damaged leg.

He spots me as well, stepping back at the sight of my drawing sword. I can't really use it right but inflicting pain and damage shouldn't be too hard.

He knows he has to fight and ends up pulling out what looks like a stick. Pathetic really.

I don't try to control or refrain myself, I just bolt. As our bodies collide, so does the back of his head to the ground. I've thrown my sword aside, and rather than stabbing, I'm punching.

My knuckles bleed after a while of making contact with his face, but I don't stop. I just continue to hit and hit.

As soon as Joshua appears from the rustle in the trees, the ground below us shoots into the air. I'm thrown on my feet and into a fit of rage. Light flickers to my right, then my left, and soon all around me. Torches.

The gamemaker's have created a small stage, or something more of resembling a stadium.

I glance over at Flax. He's crawling to the edge of the stage were I'm sure he's not meant to go. He drop's, and not only do I here his thud but his cannon as well.

"Just us." Joshua says with his voice quickly changing to a raspy tone, "Don't worry, I'll make it quick."

"I won't," I blurt back. And before I can respond, or possibly dodge or shield with my bag, the knife flies firmly into my stomach.

**Landon's Pov**

We quickly kill the flock of groosling, before starting our small fire away from the fields. The tasty aroma fills the air as we add in our handmade spices and seasoning.

The guys explain the new thirty minute break they get- far different from the usual four hours- and chat about how life has been going. Neither admit it, but I can tell that there all well aware that my actions have probably contributed to the rule change in some way.

I sit next Kale in a small shed along with my other fellow workers- or in other words, my friends- and for a bit, life is good. It's just like old times really. But of course, I always have to keep my guard up.

I'm sitting down eating roasted groosling talking to friends or in other words, I guess you could say that I'm basically playing with fire.

I've thrown out all of Sahara's rules about staying hidden and inside out the window, deciding that I can now follow my own. Even if I am putting them at risk of getting caught.

Because of their kindness they showed me-well at least Sahara- and the fact that they really do care allows me to give them a type of trust that I can't say I'd give to the other guys. Kale's an exception.

I'm planning really big thing's, the guys and I are planning really big things that I'll need their help for. Of course I can't just leave them. With their relation to me, and of course the fact that Venice will get killed for decapitating a peacekeeper. It's been a day already hasn't it? Am I too late?

Before Kale or myself can stop me, I'm wearing my helmet and on my way back to the Green's house.

**Venice's Pov**

We both say nothing to each other. Not a word or anything. Even when we both watch Landon's sister take a knife to the stomach. Mom's mouth fly's open, but no words spill out. I say what she always used to tell me about your jaw getting stuck like that, and she closes it.

I chuckle when she drop's to the ground. Landon had it coming, she had it coming. It's all a simple word called karma.

He leaves promising to get back before mom did. He never return's leaving mom to hold me accountable, leaving her to feel like an idiot. Of course it is partially my fault, but I would never admit that to her. She probably already knows.

When her cannon doesn't fire, nor do the cheers and trumpets ring through the arena declaring the kid from one a victor, I shout curses at the screen.

These games were becoming boring, and I longed for them to end.

"Shut up Venice." My dimwitted mother replies. When I'm about to ask her to repeat what it was that she said, there's a banging at the door.

I expect it to be the peacekeeper's coming to arrest us, but instead it's Landon. I want to shut the door in his face, but mom stop's me.

"Come in," she says excitedly. It's clear she doesn't know how to hold a grudge for long. Landon sits down immediately stunned at what's on the screen.

Another man with sleek dark hair walks in behind him, and is then suddenly interested in the screen as well.

"What are you excited about Landon, it's just your sister dying." But she's not dying; she's standing back up pulling out the knife…

**Sophia's Pov**

The wound has no effect on me, or at least one that I can sense. I look at my palms that are pale from the blood loss. Blood literally dripping from my body as I walk.

I can only imagine how frightening I must look to Joshua, a thirteen year old girl waddling towards him while dripping pools of blood. I might even have scared myself by looking into a mirror.

While the wound doesn't hurt, it sure makes it hard to walk. But I still have the advantage. Another knife this time bigger flies past the torch and into my chest. I fall down, but soon get back up. I know something's very not right.

Knife after knife causes me to spill more blood, but I trudge on. I take a mental note about his lack of knives left, while noticing he never hit's my head. I begin to wonder if he's aware of the lack of damage it's causing to me, but he never stop's until he's completely out of them.

His head shakes back and forth at me, and I eye him carefully. "What are you?"

"Sophia Spite, from District 11." And with that, he's gone. He scream's a fair amount of the way down after losing his footing, and then I hear the nasty crunch of his bones a vital organs smashing to bits.

Trumpet's blare loudly, and I have trouble processing what just happened.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the speaker say's, I give you Sophia Spite! The victor of the 25th annual Hunger Games!"

My mind goes blank, and I drop to the ground. There's a tranquilizing dart in my neck, and men stand a few feet away. Guess they're not taking any chances…

**Two days later**

My mentor Beethoven brown, informs me of the little bit of information that been given to him about the current situation in my district.

Landon on the loose. Newly enforced rules. The new medicine I have to inject into my arm every five hours. Nothing serious I guess.

Beethoven explains more on the small case full of my medicine as well as the small needle on our way back home. Apparently, I've lost so much blood that there fancy gadgets of sort's couldn't completely fix me. They ended up taking donations.

Two days later, my scars have mysteriously healed. I look better than I did when I entered the arena, leaving me to believe that I might actually look normal.

My hallucinations of Josh are gone, but guilt still surrounds me. I'm glad as well as I don't feel the urge to want to strangle Beethoven.

When we arrive back a day later, my prep team enters my room and adds makeup to my face, and dresses me for my big day, the returning ceremony. Only problem though is that it's strictly required that I wear handcuffs.

**Landon's Pov**

Peacekeeper's walk the streets, way more than usual. The crowd by the justice building grows larger by the minute and anxiety gets the best of me. This is a one shot thing, a one shot only.

One mistake and it's over. But hey, we've got guns…

Three to be exact. Sahara found another on a hidden pouch of the suit I'm still wearing. Haven't had time or guts to practice, neither of us, but best we can do is hope were good shots.

"Are you all ready?" I whisper to my fellow ally's. I'm answered with a loud "yes" and I tell them to quiet down.

"Alright. Arnie and Venice." They both jog out the back door of the shed, as they both have nothing that will help with what we're doing. Their job will be to guard our exit to the woods, and take the bags and supplies.

"Good luck Landon," Venice says, and I smile. That leaves me, Kale, Tomas, Harold, and Sahara. Sahara glances nervously at the door her daughter just left through. I ask her if she's alright, and she nods.

"Let's go," I say. And they hide their weapons and follow me into the crowd. The citizens move to the sides making entrances for me to walk through. After all, I do look exactly like a peacekeeper.

When my darling sister appears on stage in handcuffs, I almost cry out. Her hair is let down, and she's covered in makeup, along with the green dress that touches her feet.

The mayor steps up to talk and before he can speak, I take two shots in the air. Everyone grows silent. The peacekeeper's guarding the stage draw there's and aim, but Sahara brings them down from a distance with her gun.

More are coming, and I know it's time. I signal for Sophia to run, but something hits me firmly on my head. I'm dizzy for a quick second, but not to the point where I can't here Kale talking.

"Put down your weapons, he yells to the advancing peacekeepers, I've got him under control. How could Kale do this, weren't we friends…? I'm sorry man. It's for Madelynn, my sis. I need that prize money they have set up for you. Don't take it personal."

I can see where he's coming from, but his sister will just have to starve. I plunge the knife from my belt into his chest, and he drops.

"I'm sorry, I say grabbing his gun, and I couldn't let you do that."

For a moment, no one moves. I'm dazed at what I've done, but quickly move on. He got in the way of family.

Sahara breaks the silence by shooting two more peacekeepers, and Sophia hops across the stage were she's grabbed by an injured one.

I attempt to shoot him, but I miss terribly. Sahara finishes him off and winks, while the other guy's head for the woods.

How does she shoot like that?

Before were reunited completely, a large man yanks me from behind. We struggle and struggle and I'm guessing that he wanted my reward for his family too.

Blood splatters my face as the man's head blows apart, and I stare at Sophia with her gun raised. Her handcuffs are somehow gone, and she helps me up.

"Thanks," I say. And we hug. This time, I'm the one with tears.

Sahara re informs us of the incoming danger, and were back on our feet. We enter the woods, and I stare back at the mess we've caused.

Goodbye District 11, goodbye District 11 for good.

**Please Review!**


	11. The Hovercraft and Brother and Sister

**Landon:**

"All of those kids… they got voted in because of their actions in their districts. Or because of their strength, or because of their certainty in winning. But me… I got there because I was _mad_. I got there because I volunteered out of anger." Sophia stares at me with sad little eyes that I know are begging for forgiveness. Actually, I can't even call them little. Because she's proven that she's _not_ little anymore. She grew up days ago, when she was pulled from that arena.

I throw my arms around her, and wait patiently for that one kiss that she used to always plant on the back on neck when we hug. The kiss she gives me when she knows times are tough. Or the kiss she gives me when were both mourning over something on one of the many sad days in 11. But it never comes. Sadly, I guess she grew out of that some time ago too.

"Sophia. I love you. And you know very well that anyone would have done what you did to survive. I watched you all the way, and you were goanna come home regardless." Tears form a river of thankfulness straight down my face, and I bet Sophia feels the same way to.

"If you paid so much attention to my games, then when did you ever find the time to associate with these people?" We look around to six people walking busily around the place were we sit. Sarah and Harold keep watch on the ground, Tomas and Weeded watch from the trees, while Venice and Arnie just kind of sit and do nothing. I guess the same can be said for Sophia and me, but technically we have an excuse. While Venice and Arnie really just kind of, well… sit and do nothing.

"If it wasn't for this nice lady right here, and this wonderful-choice words- girl here, I would have surely died in the spot you saw me last." I motion for Sahara and Venice to come over, and I can here Venice's obnoxious grunting from seven feet away as she lazily stands up on her feet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sahara joyfully says, my names Sahara Green. Landon's spoken so much about you." I blush as my sister and the woman shake hands. Then it's Venice's turn.

I hold my breath knowing that this could be a bad experience, as the dark haired girl makes her way to Sophia and us.

"I would've visited you to tell you about Landon when I went to say goodbye to Josh, but I didn't really feel like it at the time. I did tell him some things though, but he's dead now so I figured I should probably tell you." Sophia gives her a confused look, and Venice sighs.

Before she can continue, our ears all move to our heads as the leaves from a nearby tree blows into our direction to the sound of a loud buzzing. It's gets louder and louder, and when I stare up through the small openings in the cracks of the branches, I spot it. A hovercraft. Looking for the band of runaways otherwise known as _us._

"Hide!" Sophia, Venice, Sahara and I make our way to the large wiled berry bush. Were mostly concealed by its brightly covered berries blending us with the leaves, and we watch as the others scramble to a hiding spot.

Arnie scoots in next to me, and his low mumbling tests my patience. I try to stand it, but I can't, and I ask for him to quiet down. He usually has his moments out on the fields, and I don't really remember anyone knowing how to quiet him. Oh wait, Venice.

"Venice, could you get Arnie to quiet down, I whisper, I don't want to startle him or…"

"Arnie, SHUT UP!" Now it was Venice who was the loud one, and I look up hoping that the hovercraft didn't pick up the noise. Arnie was nothing but a mouse compared to her demanding shrieks. But it worked. He stopped.

I grab Sophia's hand and whisper softly into her hair. "Are you scared?" I ask. She squirms her hand from my grasp, and stares at me.

"No, I'm fine actually." She says. And I quickly look away. I know I screwed up in the first place for not voting, but I can't stand the pain of watching my sister shove away my brotherly love. My brotherly care. I can't believe that this is the girl that once slept tucked up against me at night in bed, or the one that used to ask me to help her with her color paints. One crazy week apart from me has changed her drastically, and she's still the same age as when she left me.

Tomas and Weeded hide in the light green leaves of the tree, and Harold stays out of view by leaning up against the trunk. One false scoot sends Tomas tumbling from the branch, and we all watch in shock as he meets the realization of being spotted.

He bolts down the pathway made of fallen leaves, tripping and stumbling along the way. His pleads for one of us to help pains my heart since I refuse myself from doing a thing. The hovercraft is above him in no time, and a thin metallic spear shoots from doors that open on its underside, and Tomas ends up speared mostly like the boy who met up with the careers at the wrong time of day.

"He's gone," says Sahara. "Just like that." But I'm still too shocked to look. The hovercraft has to know were all down here, but it does something unexpected. Instead of landing to further search the area, it leaves. With Tomas with it.

We wait a while until were sure that it's safe to come out. And when we do, were still cautious. Weeded holds in his tears turning his simple freckled face red, and Harold and Sahara walk over to comfort him.

"The hovercraft was just like in the arena, Sophia exclaimed, just without the spear thing."

"I'd say he deserved it. Running out into the open like that, drawing attention to his dumb self. If anything, he saved our butts by running away from us." Says Venice. As much as I'd hate to admit it, she's right in a way, as in saying that he unintentionally led the hovercraft. Or was intentional?

We come to the conclusion that it's no longer safe here. We pack our things, and prepare for another short hike for a new place to crash as were nearing our first night into the wilderness. I slip my hands across my belt to tighten it, noticing my bloodied knife.

I still have trouble believing that I killed Kale, and I'm sure he'll be in my dreams to bother me tonight.

**Please Review! **


	12. The Camera and the Slip

Word had most likely gotten out about Tomas's killing, and even though it was smart to hurry up and move like we did, I highly doubt that the Capital hasn't already figured out our current whereabouts.

We trudged along the soft, dry moss on the forest path. The tree's soft whisper against the wind was like a melody whistled by the Mockingjays and the bushes along the trail offering a sense of security.

The forest had a weird layout, with some spots outstretched as though they were man made pathways. Pine trees could be seen for miles, and not too far from our previous location was a quick moving river that we stopped to collect water from.

Sure we packed plenty before we left, but seven small containers is sure to go fast with eight thirsty mouths. Besides, this could be the last time we even pass by here. Better to get more than enough in the case of water, who knows if we'd even find another source like that.

We finish up the first few bottles, and during the time we wait for the iodine to safely prepare more, Venice spots a patch of wild blackberry bushes.

Sophia's the second to get up and help pick, and I wonder to myself about how she must be feeling about all of this. Just getting home safe from the arena, only to be thrown right back into a forest where we're all stuck in hiding for who knows how long.

What did any of them really think about the current predicament? I know this was Sahara and Venice's only chance since they had fed and housed me illegally. So I guess the real question is, why had I asked Kale to get the men involved in the first place? Wouldn't it have been simpler if the rest of us had just gone without Kale and the men? Because Kale did prove that he was willing to turn me in for the promise of food. But what were the other men's cases? Why had they so eagerly agreed to help me carry out my dangerous proposal?

"Landon." I gazed up at Weeded who was currently sharpening one of the knives we had brought. "So how'd she do it?"

"Do what?"

"You know, win?" he asks. To be completely honest, I wasn't even entirely sure myself. Strong will? Ya, maybe a little. But I doubt that was really it. From what I had heard and seen, Sophia had managed to kill five tributes. Two twice her size. But the more shocking thing was the fact that Weeded was actually talking. Weeded never talked.

"I don't know, I say, luck, hope maybe." He smiles.

"Well that doesn't sound very positive now does it?" I shook my head. He was right it didn't sound real positive at all. But I couldn't even come up with a possible reason that would make sense myself. How she had brought herself to killing people when she couldn't even hurt a bug back home. She seemed to have changed over the course of a week. But I guess I had too, considering the fact that I murdered poor Kale without a thought.

"What did you want me to say?" I ask.

"I don't know, maybe something like "I knew all along that she could do it." Now he was just bothering me, and I wish he'd go back to not talking like usual. He notices my annoyed look, and tries to change the subject. "Why did she even volunteer in the first place."

"Well, I say, I got shot."

"What, when things went to hell at the reapings?" I nod.

"Why didn't she just stay?"

"I don't know... maybe she..." I stopped short when I noticed my sister staring at me from the bushes. She still hadn't washed the Capital makeup from her face, and it began to smear as a lone tear dripped slowly from her eye.

"Oh, sorry, Weeded said as he stood up, my fault."

I brushed a stick to the side as I walked towards Sophia where she sat with a bag full of blackberries. "Sorry."

"No, it's not your fault." she says, while grabbing a berry. "It's mine."

"How?"

"Because I realized the reason that they were shooting at everyone."

"And what was that?" I asked nervously.

"Because they had disobeyed Capital orders like you, and were being punished. And when that peacekeeper shot you, I was so mad and scared, that I just did the first thing that came to mind. Never did I actually think that I could win. I'm sorry."

Oh Sophia, but you had. You had won. And now more clear than ever did I get why that was such a big deal. A tribute that became a Victor, with a sibling that was known throughout the district for defying the Capital. Known throughout the world now.

If a Victor's brother could do it, then anyone could. Right? And I bet the Capital can't have that, because the whole situation could start another rebellion itself. And us being out here is probably not helping on the Capital's part.

"Landon?" Sophia calls my name.

"You knew that I didn't vote?" I ask, still half way stuck in thought.

"Yeah. When you first got home that day from the fields, I knew."

"Oh."

"Landon, do you mind if I finish helping Venice pick the rest of the blackberries?"

"I'm done," I hear Venice yell from a little bit away.

"No your not, you left an entire bush!" Sophia shouts back, running to finish up with the berry picking. I sit in the same spot, pondering about the possibility of starting a real rebellion.

It's not long after that the girls and Arnie come running back to tell us that they've found something. Weeded and I call for Sahara and Harold, who were watching by the stream, and we all head to one of the pine trees in front of one of the odd paths that we passed earlier.

"It's a camera, Sophia says pointing at the silver box badly hidden on one of the lower branches, just like one that I saw in the arena."

"It's broken, has to be, says Harold, the older man, I don't think those things are supposed to bend open like that." He was right. The back end had been tampered with, allowing it's inner wires and gizmos to be exposed.

I've never seen such a thing up close since the Capital reporters brought their equipment to interview our only previous Victor and his family when I was young, and I could pretty much tell just from observing that it was definitely not in good shape.

"Why would one be here?" Venice asked.

"Not sure, Sahara says, but I know for sure that something isn't right about this." And boy was she on to something. Because when we made our way back to the stream, our bags were no where in sight.

Only thing left was a small slip of paper that Arnie found.

_Make sure to play by the rules,_ it read.


	13. The Attack on Camp

**Well I have finally updated! A lot of things were a factor in the lateness, and I rewrote this exact chapter about six times until I was satisfied. Safe to say, I'm still not entirely satisfied, but I don't like to keep people waiting. As for my other story, "When things get Bloody" same goes for it too. I'm half way done with its Chapter 10, actually I've started two Chapter 10's. So whichever one I finish first, or like the most, will be the one that I update. Thanks again Stella for reviewing!**

"Back in the arena, during the bloodbath, there was a boy. He wasn't very big, my size almost, and it all just happened so fast. We were on the ground in seconds, and my strap was around his neck… and… and, he was gone."

The chilling words that were flowing from Sophia's mouth frightened me. I had seen everything she described, I remembered it, and it all became even worse after you recalled her age.

I didn't raise her that way and mother definitely hadn't. It just didn't make sense for a girl afraid of her own shadow to suddenly turn vicious and kill the boy that ran beside her.

"And then it was that girl from 1, I called her Loser, and then a boy that I stabbed and set on fire…"

I remember the boy, she chopped him up like groosling, but not the girl. Another victim at the hands of my sister in other words.

"If it makes you feel any better, you killed someone too Landon. Kale, remember?" Her face swarmed guilt and fresh tears when she realized what she had said was wrong. Never in a life time would I have expected her to say something like that, but she just had. And didn't stutter either.

"No." I barked. "I did that for you." Then I got right up and left.

My mind ran blank as I sprinted through overgrown trees and bushes of the forest. Crickets chirped peacefully in the night, and I stopped to listen as I tried to collect my thoughts. Why would she say that? And no, it had not made me feel any better.

I never should have tried to discuss the matter with her in the first place. It could have waited, but brought it up. I was asking for it, and I got it.

"You know she didn't mean it." I turn to see Sahara leaning against a pine. She was quiet compared to the chirps of the insects, but just loud enough for me to hear.

"Did you follow me?" I ask while staring at the full moon hiding behind the trees.

"Yeah, thought we'd talk about the note." She says.

"I came out her to be alone you know, you couldn't have went over this with Harold or something?" I ask. "Haven't seen you two apart since we've been out here."

Sahara's calm expression switched to a serious one, and she leans in to whisper. "If you care to know, I don't trust any of those men no more than I have too." She says. "Just last night, I saw Arnie and Weeded packing those bags full of supplies."

"The ones that were taken?"

"Yes."

I shook my head doubtfully. "You think they knew beforehand that those bags were going to be taken, that's very unlikely."

Sahara looks at me knowingly as a gun shot rang out through the woods, then she reached for her gun and took off. I did the same but stopped short when I didn't feel the slender grip of the handle sticking from my belt.

My panic rose when I didn't feel my knife strapped to my waist either. I wanted to stop and search again but I picked up my feet and kept my pace. That wasn't at all helping the growing knot in my stomach or the ringing of my hands, but I kept moving in fear of that gunshot having hit Sophia.

Sweat slowly began to moisture around my face as well as my palms. I had been angry at her just before, and was now racing in attempt to save her. The men must have stripped me of my equipment when I was sleep. It had been Harold's turn to watch after all, and Arnie and Weeded were both awake.

How long had they been planning this, and why was Sahara so sure that they were? Another gunshot, but this time it was closer. Then a scream for help.

I can't tell who it was, but it sounded more like Arnie's childlike voice. "Sophia!" I call out. About a second later, she answers back in a scream.

I'm just around the corner when a massive dark figure jumps me to the ground. I see fangs inches from my face, and a nice big glob of drool drips from the beast's mouth as I try to shove it off. It growls and digs its front paws into my chest and I let out a half muffled grunt, and a half muffled cry for help.

A loud slash comes from someplace up front and the creature lets out a dying whimper. I push it off and stare up at Weeded who's holding a hand out for me to grab. I take it and he pulls me up.

"Those are mutts Landon, I think they've sent them for us." He says. "Were under att..." I don't let him finish. I knock him back with a swing of my fist, and he falls down with a mouthful of blood. I give him another swing before taking the gun from his belt and holding it at his head.

"You don't trust me anymore, huh?" he asks almost hastily. "Or did you even trust me before?!" I point at the weapon he used to kill the creature that sits sprawled across the ground. It's a machete, Venice's machete.

"Where'd you get that?!" he carefully moves his glance to my pointing direction. "Answer me!" I shout even louder. One of the mutts growls behind me and breaks the otherwise silence.

"Okay, okay." He croaks. "That girl ain't goanna need it no more, she's good as dead." And before I can I ask what he means, I drop to the ground with a thud. My blood splatters in the dirt and Weeded regains his stance over me.

"Sorry man," he says, right before hitting my temple with the butt of the gun I dropped, knocking me out cold.

**Please Review! Major chapters ahead!**


	14. The Flashes

**Yeah, I updated. I blame my laptop for the bad timing, but it's here, Happy Holidays! My computer had a virus, so I had to try and finish this up in a library. Thank goodness for flash drives. I'm going to go ahead and say that this fic is only going to get darker. We're talking next chapter, because again, every five chapter's, something major will happen. **

_We're being led into a group, guardians and parents in the back. That's me. The thumping of work boots against the ground sound similar to the marching bands the Capital sent in when we had our first Victor. It's just like a routine now, walk in, find your group, and leave when it's over. Some of us don't leave happy of course._

_Sophia is up front in the Thirteen's and her face turning as red as a tomato. I've told her many times that it's unlikely she would be picked, but she doesn't listen. I bet not a single person entered her name into the voting bowl. _

_The girl is picked with twenty-seven votes, and Sophia again turns to me, this time excitedly. And so does a man._

* * *

><p>My eyes flash open and I'm on the ground. I instinctively push myself back up, but maybe a little too fast. My legs give out and I do a spiral back into the same heap I was in before. I'll try again in a second, when everything stops spinning that is. <em>Where had I just been?<em>

There's a very bright orange light somewhere to my right, and when the terrible smell of smoke begins to fill my nose, I immediately come to a conclusion. _Fire._

When I regain my feet, the world starts to slow down. I can run without feeling like vomiting now, and I'm already beginning to form task 2 in my head. _Find Sophia._

Flames burn high in the trees, bushes and shrubs. I keep my fair distance. What was going on? Where was everybody? I just need one sign, and maybe…

There's a loud moan coming not far from where I'm standing. I rush over in hopes of finding Sophia safe and sound, but the sound came from someone else. _Venice._

She lays face down on the dirt, and I shake her, hoping for another response. "Venice?" I yell. "Wake up!" Just another moan escapes her lips and I heave her over my shoulders. The new weight of the seven-teen year old I now carry slows me down only a little.

Then I drop.

* * *

><p>"<em>Landon, wake up!" The voice is serious and direct. I don't even wait to see whose talking to me before I'm up and holding them back against a wall. It's the man from the reaping.<em>

"_Venice!" I shout. The girl seems to have disappeared as well as the area we were in. It's changed to a small room with a single bed in the corner were in. A very common household you'd might find in 11. _

"_Where am I?" The middle aged man I have in my grasp stops his squirming to answer. "District 11, he says, we are currently in District 11."_

_I let him loose, and demand a more explicit answer. He just pulls up a chair and places it next to the bed. "My name is Sam, he says, and you're not supposed to be here."_

* * *

><p>The next time, there's a different person who wakes me up. It's Venice, and besides being covered in dirt and smoke, she's conscious.<p>

"What just happened?" I ask. She brushes herself off before answering.

"Well, I think you were carrying me before you fell out. Don't worry, I dragged you away from the fire too." She responds. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. And you?" she holds up her arm to show me a wound the size of a small branch. I make a face.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." She says. I object, because I've seen people bleed out before both in the Games, and at home.

"You need stitches, I say, we don't need that getting infected." Her response shows that the she's against the broad statement, but I make it clear that we won't be moving until the problem is dealt with. While I close up the ugly cut, I tell her about my flashes I'm getting. About feeling like I was at the reaping, and as if I was in a house belonging to a man named Sam.

She shakes it off as me being weird, and then I can literally feel myself starting to drift away again. And I'm not even close to done with Venice's arm.

"Landon, wait!" she calls. But I've already left.

* * *

><p>"<em>It's the mutations, one of them must have bit you." My eyes open again to Sam standing over me. "Their fangs and saliva were laced with sleep venom, but I don't think the Capital was intending for you to continue waking up like this."<em>

"_What, how did I get back here?" I ask now even more desperate for answers. If I didn't flash back in time, Venice could die of blood loss. _

"_I just told you, you're in a dream sequence." He says calmly. "A very real dream sequence caused by the mutts."_

_That made some since, because I am starting to remember having the mutt pounce me. But I'm also starting to remember the one who saved me, and then knocked me out._

"_Where's Weeded?" I demand._

"_In his home sleep," says Sam. "Where in District 11, remember?"_

"_No, where is he now?" I ask._

_"_The next time we meet Landon, Weeded should be there."__

* * *

><p>I get up by myself this time to see Venice pale and back on the ground. I help her up and stare shocked at the reopened wound running down her arm.<p>

"I'm so sorry," I say. She smiles and hands me the thread.

"Just fix it please." I do as asked and explain what I saw this time. Her face is growing paler by the minute, and I'm feeling even guiltier for having to leave her just before.

"Does it hurt?" I ask.

"Not too bad." She says, voice getting weaker. The heaviness starts to wash over me when I realize that her life is in my hands. I'm hating Weeded right now for not helping her and instead just taking her machete.

"You're going to be fine, I add, I promise." But even I have trouble believing my own words as the wound begins to spill more blood.

"Landon, if you find the others, she says, and my mom. Please tell her that I love her, I forgot." I nod and try to finish the stitching with tear filled eyes.

"I will."

When I walk over a hill to find the group, they immediately notice the girl's body I hold in my arms. Sophia's with them, and she runs to see me. Then Sahara right after, and I hand her the body while telling her what I promised Venice.

There's tears, and some of them even come from me. I'm walking over to Weeded fist raised, and then I pause. Standing next to him is the man I had just spoken to. _Sam. _How did he...

But there's a gunshot right after, and Weeded drops to the ground with a big hole in his forehead. We all turn to the trees where an army of peacekeepers storm towards us.

They've caught us off guard, when we were mourning a loss. _They've found us and want us to raise our hands._

**Well, I killed off Venice. Sorry Stella. And I figured I'd get rid of Weeded as well at the end, because he was just getting annoying to write about. But I'll bring him back up. Next chapter is big, like two major character deaths. Any thoughts on who they could be?**

**Please Review!**


	15. The Slaughter

**Thank You Oddtom and Stella for reviewing!**

**Chapter update! So as I said I would, I read and finished The Maze Runner. It was pretty good actually, different too. I'm seeing the movie tomorrow, and buying the second one. Also, for my other story, it's probably going to become a once a month update story at this pace. I just don't have the time that I want to carefully construct the plot at the moment. But I will get back to it.**

**Anyway, two deaths just like I said.**

We we're warned of the consequences for not voting. But did I think it would get me in a room, awaiting my death? Yes, but not under these circumstances. To be completely honest, part of me did expect death, but half of me didn't think it would matter, or that they wouldn't check.

Of course, that part of me was wrong.

I don't remember how I wounded I up here, or much at all after we we're captured and stunned by the soldiers, but I obviously wasn't getting anywhere by thinking back on it. I was already thinking of ways to escape.

My hands are handcuffed to the chair they've sat me in, but my legs and feet are free. A metal door is directly in my line of view, at about just seven feet, and a small light bulb hangs overhead emitting a surprisingly bright light.

No cameras it seems, at least none in front of me. The door was definitely locked, but if I could manage, I'd definitely give it a try. I was desperate, desperate to get out and find the others. To find Sophia.

It was the first thing I had thought about when I came to, finding my sister, but one thought did reassure me that she was safe. The fact that she was a Victor, and they wouldn't kill a victor would they?

The door bursts open before I even have a chance to move. Walking in, is a man wearing a gray pair of goggles.

"I hope you weren't planning anything, he says, it's just that you people react like animals when you fear your life is in danger." I scowled at his statement, and at the fact that he interrupted my escape plan.

"Okay, so the good news is, you're not going to die today. Bad news, well, some people will." My heart skips at his words.

"Who?" I demand, feeling in increase in worry.

"You'll see." He says, as he pulls out a walkie talkie from his pants pocket. Static as he speaks into it. I wait silently, wondering who he could be talking about. It can't be Sophia, I needed to find her. She had to be safe.

Static again as he finishes speaking and puts it back up. "Alright, all of this is just to make a point, and there is nothing you can do to change the outcome of it. Later on when we question you maybe, but everything that will happen today will happen." He says.

"Why?" I'm ignored. Two peacekeeper's walk in during the minutes that follow, and the man in goggles face seems visibly exited.

A man strolls in next, but whose arm he's holding sends shock through me. Blindfolded, is Harold.

"Drop and kneel." Says the man in the goggles, and Harold, unable to see the vicious machete that his captor is being handed, obeys in a generally calm manner.

"Forrest, remove his blindfold." The man to Harold's left walks forward to do as he's told, and the peacekeepers behind them for what I guess is safety measures, carefully train their guns to the back of his head.

When it's removed, Harold's brown eyes look visibly fierce. He knows what's about to happen, and he's accepted it, but I haven't. His eyes easily meet mine, and we both stare without saying a word for a long moment. The man in goggles allows it.

I've known Harold for three years, not personally, but as an acquaintance. He was always friendly towards Kale and I regardless, and if anything, I've got to know him better during the time we spent in the woods. It's my fault that this is happening, I should have left him out of it. Even if he did agree to it. But he's all bloody now from torture, and whatever else they had just been doing to him, and…

"It's fine Landon, this was my decision." He says, with one last final wink. "Good luck to you and your sister."

The machete is swung, and it meets his neck with the middle of the blade. It's drove quickly across, leaving a long smile of red behind it, as well as a large smile across the man in goggles face. Blood gushes out from his neck wound and splatters onto the white floor boards. Harold is dead in seconds.

I want my hands around the killer's neck. I want to squeeze the life from him just as he took Harold's. The chains around my wrists rattle as I try to free myself. The man named Forrest notices my anger.

"Are you mad now Landon?" he taunts. "Since we killed your friend there? Wait till we're through with the next one." I can feel my brows make a curve into a serious expression.

"If you bring my sister out next, I don't care whether or not there are chains bounding my wrists together, but I will kill you." Forrest frowns at my threatening approach, then becomes agitated.

"Tomas, maybe we should bring out his sister instead." He says. Something's off, and I'm not entirely sure if it's because Forrest referred to the man in goggles by name, or because the name he used sounded very familiar.

The man referred to as 'Tomas' turns his focus towards me. "You weren't supposed to give it away yet, Forrest. But it's too late now…"

He finally takes off his goggles, and gives me one of the greatest shocks of my life. Tomas, is the dark haired, twitchy Tomas that I knew from 11. The one that fell from a tree when we were being stalked by a hovercraft. The one that was killed.

Except that he wasn't, apparently, and he was somehow here now.

"You were dead! We all saw you die!" I blurt out.

"Bring her in." he says ignoring me. But I'm too occupied in thinking about who the "she" could be referring to too care. Forrest emphasized that it wouldn't be Sophia, and the only other female left would be…

"Drop and kneel." Tomas's chilling voice booms through the room, and I look back up in horror to see Sahara bloodied, beaten, and partially clothed.

"You let her be." I say in disgust. I'm ignored again, even when I try to speak up.

"I said drop." Tomas repeats, but then he smirks and shakes his head. "So you ain't goanna do it, huh? Alright boys, shoot out her legs." The blares of gunshots echo, followed by Sahara's screams as her legs are blasted into mangled flesh.

From her bloodshot eyes, and mud stained face, I can only imagine what they've done to her. Anyway, it can't be good.

"No!" I shout. "Stop, just stop!" Finally, Tomas gives me his attention.

"Quiet Landon, or we'll be forced to remove your tongue sooner than necessary. Besides, would you really rather that be your sister over there?" Anger flushed through me, filling every gap and empty space with an unhealthy amount of rage, but I had to try and stay calm. I had to try and reason.

"You don't have to Tomas, you've already killed Harold. You don't have to murder Sahara too." I plead. Another smile.

"Forget it, Landon. Every one of you will get your turn too, man up." He calls for a peacekeeper to toss him a gun, and he catches it midair. He places a superior foot on Sahara's back, and aims the deadly weapon.

"If you just had listened, I would have been nice." He says to her while cocking it. The tears are streaming down Sahara's face, turning a muddy color as they mix with the dirt.

"You caused my daughter's death, and now you're going to kill me?" she asks in a whimper, most likely already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, that's about right," he says.

He fires the shot, I look away, and then let every foul profanity loose on the trader and killer we know as Tomas. I'm crying worse than Sahara by now, but I should be happy. I was spared.

Tomas raises a finger and points at me barefoot. "Cut it off," he says.

**So yeah, Tomas is back, and he's the complete definition of evil in Landon's eyes. A sociopath if you might, which makes him perfect for his job, because he doesn't see the pain in others. What so ever. And downfalls Sahara and Harold. The only original runaways left are Landon, Sophia, and Arnie. Or, maybe the last two are dead… Stay tuned and please review. All we be explained.**


	16. The Regrets and Costs

**Hey Guys! _No More Hope_ has reached 22 reviews! That may seem like a small amount to some but it means a lot to me. Also, thank you Cashmere67** **for following, and thank you** **DaHungerGamesThough for following and adding this story as a favorite! **

_The regrets that Landon Spite now vividly relives through his dreams._

* * *

><p>Votes would be counted the next day, and what was I doing? Debating over whether or not I should participate. Of course I should have, or we wouldn't all be here now, but there was another part to it. I couldn't just vote on a child to be sent away to their death.<p>

I had looked at it as if whatever possible child I jotted down could be Sophia. Torn away from those who cared about her because someone just didn't care. Didn't care that they would be ruining someone else's life forever. But I wanted to care.

At this time, Sophia would have agreed with me. She would have expressed her feelings for that poor child who would get picked because of someone's simple ballot. But now, who knows what she'd say. Her whole view on things has changed because of the Games. Her caring personality and upbeat mood, they stole that from her.

All because of the choice I'm about to make right now.

A peacekeeper approached me that day, fully suited with a gun sticking barely visible from his belt pocket. He asked if I had voted, and not wanting to cause trouble, I lied. That lie cost us all.

* * *

><p>Back at town square in 11, past the fence, the mountains and forests expanded back deep into the unknown. Well, unknown at the time. We all had been given reasons not to venture back there, like wild dogs, left over mutts from the war, and death.<p>

The officials deemed it a "horrible suicide", and that scared most of us enough not to go and try it out in fear that we'd end up like our lost relatives. So really, fear kept us all in. But this moment was different; right now was.

Harold had just lifted his right leg over the side of the fence as Weeded ran over to help him. The iron bars shook under the weight, and Harold appeared on the other side. Sahara and I watched for signs of nearing danger, but from what we could see, the square was still clouded in black smoke. A fire had started during the shootout.

A gut feeling had urged me to bend over and collect myself, a strong feeling that I maybe should have listened to. A feeling that I should have listened to. I kept thinking that maybe it wasn't too late to turn back, or that maybe the punishment wouldn't be too harsh. Could this really have been the best for Sophia?

Sahara had noticed my uncertainty by now, and she quickly spun around to tell me how I was wrong and why. "We fired into a crowd of citizens, and at peacekeepers; even stole their guns. They won't accept us back, not after we've attacked and killed our own people. It's over otherwise, we either run or we die."

I coughed as the smoke started to get to me, "We could die out there. You've heard what they say." Sahara shrugged.

"Out can't be any better than in." But now I know, that's not the case. In is way better. Was way better. Better for Sophia. Not too long after that, we tossed over our guns, and decided to go ahead and head up the fence too. That decision cost all of us.

* * *

><p>Venice and I had been determined to carry on after the mutts attacked camp, even if we had to drag each other along to do it. With the bad gash across her arm, and my tendency to fall over into an unresponsive heap thanks to the poison, that task proved hard.<p>

Now I feel like I could have controlled it better, just enough to keep her going until we could find Sahara who actually knew a thing about injuries. But of course, I wasn't right at the moment. Every time I'd close my eyes, I'd open them again to see Venice worse. But after the second time, it was clear that she wouldn't make it any farther.

She knew it to, and after telling me some final words, she died. Because I couldn't cooperate, I cost her life. Later, when I found the group standing out in the open, the Capital also found us. That cost Sahara and Harold their lives.

All because of me.

* * *

><p>"Oh good, you're up." I lazily look up to see Tomas looking down on me. I can't tell whether he's mad or happy. The glare sure seems threatening, but the crooked smile throws me off.<p>

"Remember Weeded? Remember how he helped you up, and you returned the favor with a punch?" I nodded slightly. Of course I remembered Weeded. "Well, he wasn't supposed to do that. He was assigned the position to make sure that you didn't survive that attack, but he went out of his way to help you. But again, you clobbered him right in the face and made it out of there. Snow later gave the soldiers orders to kill him."

I felt guilty, again. I only assumed that Weeded was just bad. Not someone who wanted to help.

Tomas's facial expression suddenly changed. "You know what? I don't think I'm ready to talk to you yet. Put him back to sleep, Jesse." As a woman injects a needle into into my arm, I add that too to my list.

My actions had cost Weeded his life.

He was dead all because of me.

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	17. The Pain

**Thanks for the reviews, you guys are awesome. **

The pain is strong.

The pain of knowing that what you've caused can't be undone, and that no matter how much you want to go back and stop it from happening, you just can't. I should be the dead one, dead from being left behind by Sophia at the reapings. Dead face down on the concrete, where a puddle of blood was forming from my bullet wound. Instead, Sahara and Venice took me in, saved me.

They should have left me, but they didn't, and now they're dead for it. But their lucky for that, Harold included. They no longer have to suffer like us anymore; if there's even still an _us_ left…

For all I know, they could have slaughtered Arnie and Sophia minutes after they removed me from the room. Forget about being a Victor, it's clear that Tomas doesn't care either way on whose blood is on his hands. And who knows what lies they've told to Panem regarding the circumstances of our escape.

Even the blurred glimpse I got of my severed foot, sprawled across the ground, right before I collapsed into a heap in my chair. I'm not going anywhere without support, nowhere fast at least. Escape is no longer an option with one foot, and I need to rethink everything. It's very clear of what happened, Tomas told his men to take off my foot, they did with his machete and various other tools, and I sat awake screaming the entire time. I shudder.

After, I remember Tomas commenting on how loud I got. "Good thing every wall in this building is sound proof, which means you can also stop calling for Sophia every night, too." My stare rose up from the blood soaked bandages, to the rotating camera stationed in the top right hand corner of the dim lit room. Every moment, the red light on its base would flash. A reminder that everything I say or do in this room is being monitored.

I still haven't stopped calling out for her yet, though, even if the chances of her hearing me do lean in the wrong direction; and I'd like to think that if she is well, she's out there somewhere else doing the same thing.

Wherever out there is of course, hopefully not too far from here if I'm lucky. Staring down quickly reminds me that I'm not, that I'm not at all lucky. I remember it in grave detail; the fear, the shock, the pain. All of it.

Up until now, escape was all I thought about. Escaping District 11 with Sophia into the woods, escaping the clutches of the mutts when it was apparent that the woods where no longer safe, and even the smallest thought that we could still get out of this one.

Harold's dead, Sahara's dead, I'm dead, technically speaking. And for whatever reason, thinking about it didn't frighten me. And that alone scared me. Maybe my mind is already trying to tell me to give up, or to just give in. I strain a frown at my own thoughts. I can't do that just yet, not until I know whether or not Sophia is alive at least.

I guess they had given me some type of painkillers, they had to have had; it felt so numb whenever I tried to move it. And since they did, it could have also meant that they weren't entirely done with me yet, because why else would they have kept me from bleeding out?

Huddled in a corner, time seems to go on forever. Sitting here with nothing to do but give attention to the crazy thoughts that are popping up in my head. Their so vivid, like a vision of sorts, as if they we're really happening; or a memory of something that had happened already.

_Why?_

My teeth chatter from being in the icy cell. After all, they had me sitting here with only some batted jeans and shirtless, a perfect way to catch cold. In the dark, I felt around for something I could use to keep warm. Blanket, clothing, spare cloth. A rag. Anything would do, "but not a handful of cobwebs" I think as I shake and brush off my hand.

When nothing turns up, I resort to a second plan. Covering into a desperate ball in attempt to conserve my body heat. They have me exactly where they want me; defenseless, cold, scared. I have no idea of what's to come next. Another talk with Tomas, a beating, someone else getting killed in front of me? They have me at their feet. But if anything, I'll lose it completely if they make my sister the next to go.

This state of depression that's slowly washing over me. I can't see my way through it, not while I'm like this. Not when I'm about to give up.

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	18. The Similarities

**Sorry I took so long, school got in the way, and a couple of other things too. But it's summer now, here at least. Hopefully future chapters won't take three months to make, but if they do, just know that I haven't gave up on them. Thanks for reviewing Stella, your the best. **

The gong sounded. We watch as twenty out of the twenty-four tributes make a bolt for the cornucopia that's overfilling with supplies. The male from two reaches the center first, and he grips the handle of an axe and brings it down on an approaching girl's shoulder. She's not dead, but she's not moving either, and he doesn't take the time to retrieve the weapon.

Grabbing two swords, he runs out to meet with the forming bunch of careers. Right behind him, Josh moves into the clear too dig through supplies. I wouldn't remember him if he hadn't had been helping Sophia, even if he had been Venice's friend.

He grabs two packs and some weapons, then heads back to where he'd left Sophia. I bet his faced matched mine at the time that I first saw her unwrapping her shoulder strap from around the dead boy's neck. I was dumbfounded, and still am to know that she was capable of ending someone's life. Capable of strangling someone, ignoring their desperate squirming and kicking. Strangling isn't a quick death. Having your oxygen slowly began to be cut out is a torture. Where could this sudden bit of disregard have come from?

"Come on, we need to go." Josh said, and Sophia didn't object. I glared at Tomas as he turned around to speak.

"I don't want to watch this. Don't make me watch this." I pleaded. Tomas shrugged.

"It's not your choice, none of it is. You said that I was unhuman because of the way I killed your friends, so I'm going to prove that I'm not."

I ignored the last part. There was nothing about him that needed proving. To me, he would always be the devilish psychopath that killed two of my great friends. As gruesomely as possible.

I fought at my cuffs, and kicked at my ankle shackles. I didn't want to see a repeat of Sophia's Games. Once was enough, and I wanted to leave the room that was full of people that I despised. The nightmare just never seemed to end.

Tomas skipped to the second major event of Sophia's Game's, Josh's death. She mourned and mourned, cried, screamed. Broke down, pulled at her hair, and kicked things. It was her breaking point.

"We didn't think this had anything to do with her mental stability then, says Tomas, but I'll tell you what. The Capital mourned, and R.I.P Josh tee-shirts sold out everywhere."

Was that really how they acted? Cheer and anticipate a bloody year, and then get sad after someone dies from it? Makes me sick.

I sigh as the next big event is skipped too, and I watch as Sophia runs for her life away from the pursuing careers. Then the tussle with the District 2 girl, their taunting, and then her death at the hands of my sister. I didn't notice it until now, but there was a smile on her face. A small one, but a noticeable one.

"Pretty strange, huh?" Tomas asks. "She's smiling like a career, right after she had the strength to kill one." I ignore him again.

The Lunajays are next, and I cringe as they swarm my sister. Racking her brain of any common sense with their insane driving screeching.

"We aren't allowed to use Lunajays anymore." Tomas says. "And I bet you know why." I do, and I think about it as I watch them continue to swallow Sophia in a flurry of wings and feathers. She walks away dazed, half self-aware, half conscious. Blood streaming from her ears. This no doubt interrupted her thinking, and ability to tell right from wrong. Or that's the nice way to put it. I didn't want to see it this way, but Sophia had lost it.

She was only thinking what the Lunajays were designed to make her think. _To kill, and nothing else. _With only a slight self-awareness that was no match against the fight with the other thoughts. It had just took over.

"We ended up giving her some meds for it after, and I think that helped. Tomas said without turning around his chair. Something went wrong when the lunajays tried to screw with her head. I felt sorry for her next victim, I really did."

Yeah, me too. She just lit him up in flames and mutilated him with her knife, long after his cannon had fired. The more I witnessed her actions, I began to realize that she showed the same characteristics of the person that I hated.

She killed two innocent people that she had never met before. So did Tomas. She seemed to enjoy it. So did Tomas. She didn't seem to care either. Neither did Tomas.

No. That wasn't true. Sophia was sweet, and kind, and wouldn't hurt a fly.

But I was wrong… I had seen her harm people, not flies. People, and she had killed them.

And I thought Tomas was bad.

The next clip was of one that I hadn't seen. Sophia stumbled around an open space, next to a giant pile of ants that easily made me shudder.

Sophia had been standing in the wrong place at the wrong time once, and she walked away covered in inflamed ant bites. She didn't cry, but she was close to it, and I vowed to never let something like that happen again.

"It's impossible to know what she was thinking then, but by the way she's calling that ant pile by your name, I'd say she's hallucinating." Tomas says.

I figured as much. It made me wonder if it had anything to do with that incident she had when she was little. Maybe not though, because she had been calling for Josh too.

Eventually, she stumbled her way into a canyon, and that's when things got interesting. A gamemaker caused earthquake was upon her before she was even aware of it, and she was thrown to her feet as well as six other tributes whose cannons fired soon after.

Sophia regained her footing though, just in time to make eye contact with a girl who seemed to be badly injured. You can guess what became of her after Sophia grabbed her sword and swung it. The cannon fire echoed through the room.

I was ready for this to be over, ready for the entirety of it to be over. I had been fighting to save a monster from what it seemed. That's what Tomas had wanted to show me, and he had a good way of doing it.

Maybe there wasn't much of difference between the two after all.

* * *

><p><strong> Watch out for Chapter 20, major events!<strong>


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